


A Stranger's Hat

by WriterofWords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DCBB 2015, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, F/F, Fem!Castiel, Insomnia, Minor Character Death, Past Abuse, fem!dean, fem!destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterofWords/pseuds/WriterofWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna moves to London to get away from family problems. She struggles to find herself at home in a new city, new country, new continent. Still, she does not miss the States - not one bit. (Well, okay, maybe she misses her brother, Sam. Just a little.)</p><p>In the midst of trying to deal with her problems, Dee runs into Castiel, another American trying to get away from her own family troubles. Together they discover London doesn't have to be a lonely place, but life has a tendency of coming up with new challenges when you least need it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the DCBB 2015 challenge. The art for this work was done by the amazing itsdeancas on tumblr, and can be found here: <http://itsdeancas.tumblr.com/post/130573582846>
> 
> Working on this has, indeed, been one hell of a challenge, but it has also been a lot of fun. I'd like to thank my dear sister, who betaed for me, despite various family and health related problems in her personal life (any mistakes are, of course, entirely on me); and [my artist](http://itsdeancas.tumblr.com/), who will never know just how excited I was when I saw the art. Thank you so much for the amazing art, and for putting up with me and being nothing but kind despite my tendency to always be slightly (or not-so-slightly) behind schedule.
> 
> Lastly, I'd like to apologise to my flatmates, who have had to endure me for the whole two months we've been living here, while all I'd do was whine about this story and squee about season 11. (I promise to talk about other things now! Sometimes.)

Dee was late. Late late _late_. Not late as in the late Dentarthurdent, but late like that annoying rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. She couldn’t be late today. She was meeting her little brother today, which was a rare occasion. Well, _little_ brother my ass. There wasn’t much about him that was little these days. He was half a head taller than her, that bastard. Towered over pretty much everyone he met. Baby brothers are supposed to be _small_ , she thought. Not huge giants stalking around on stilt-tall legs.

She didn’t see him much these days. Not after Dee moved to London, leaving America behind. For good. Sam had stayed back home with his girlfriend and Bobby. The family feud that had forced Dee to leave in the end had turned her against all but her little brother, who’d somehow remained neutral through the whole thing, although it was still a sore topic between them.

It was, however, not a topic for today. Sam was going back over the pond again in just a couple of days. And he would not be coming back anytime soon; airfare was expensive and while he might be earning good money when he started working as a lawyer — and he would be the greatest lawyer of them all, Dee was sure — Sam was just a student at the moment, barely scraping by as it was. He had only been able to come visit now because Dee and Bobby had seen past their differences, and together the three of them had been able to pay for the trip. Dee’s situation had gotten better after she’d found a job here, but she still had to pay rent and eat and live, and there wasn’t much she could spare, even to have a visit from her favourite relative.

But as she spotted her little brother touristing away with his camera in Russell Square she thought she’d gladly live on oatmeal porridge for a few more weeks just so she could see Sammy again. It was worth it.

Sam eventually spotted her as she walked towards him, and he pointed his camera at her enthusiastically. Although Dee was slightly annoyed at all the picture-taking — being photographed really wasn’t something she was fond of, after spending so many years trying to avoid any ties to locations and times and dates — she couldn’t help the big grin breaking out on her face or the eager wave her left hand seemed to be doing all on its own.

So she wasn’t paying attention to the other park-goers at all and was thoroughly confused to find herself sprawled on the ground, something heavy atop her and several sheets of paper covering her face and obscuring her vision.

“Oh - I'm so sorry, I didn't s—” the voice cut off as the papers were removed from her face and a woman's face appeared instead, taking up most of Dee's vision.

Dee didn't pay much attention to the other woman's face at all. She was aware that she was on the ground with a stranger pretty much sprawled over her, she was aware of other passers-by gawking at them, she vaguely recollected something about Sam and a camera and being in a hurry, but all of that was pushed to the back of her mind as she stared into the most captivating pair of eyes she had ever seen. She had no idea how long she looked into those eyes as they stared back before something huge blocked out the sun, and then something grabbed her arm and hauled her to her legs. The same must have happened to the stranger, as the weight on top of her lessened a half-second before her own upper body left the ground.

Dee turned towards the arm-holder, who turned out to also be the sun-blocker and her concerned brother.

“Dee, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine, I just—”

The voice from earlier cut her off, and she turned around again to find its source. However, none of the words registered in her mind as those eyes again stole all of her attention away from the rest of the world. The other woman was gathering up the papers that were scattered on the ground around them while blabbering apologetically.

Behind her back, Sam was saying something as well, and plucking twigs out of her hair, but she didn't hear him either. As the stranger finished picking up her papers and books, apologising one last time before hurrying off, Dee kept staring straight ahead. It took several seconds before she could see anything but the blue eyes that were no longer there.

“What — ” Dee closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. “What just—” She cut herself off again as she opened her eyes and her gaze fell on the dark brown blob of cloth lying at her feet. “Hey, lady, you dropped your hat!” she shouted after the woman, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Dee picked up the hat and looked at it. It was made from coarse fabric, with a headband in a darker brown, and looked quite old. Perhaps not of much monetary value, but it seemed well-worn and was probably dear to its owner anyway. Not something she could just throw away. “Right then. I guess it's up to me to keep it safe.” She put it in the rucksack she always brought to work, filled with a few changes of clothes and essential's she'd need if she had to leave quickly — some habits died hard — and turned towards Sam again. “Sorry I was late. Ellen held me back to lecture me about reorganising the alcohol without consulting her again. How was the British Museum?”

Sam’s worried from melted away and was replaced with an eager grin. “It was amazing! You should have come with me! In the Egyptian section, there was this ancient mummy—”

Dee cut him off before he could launch into a long speech about absolutely everything Sam knew about mummies and probably some other things Dee really wasn’t interested in hearing about right now. “Yeah, yeah, calm down there, you giant five-year-old. I woulda loved to come with you, but they really needed me at work today.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the airport.”

Sam grinned back. “No worries, big sis. I found my way just fine. You probably would’ve gotten bored at the Museum anyway.”

“Yeah.” Dee smiled in agreement, though she still felt bad for ditching Sam for work, and for not being there to meet him the moment he got into the country. “Come on, lets go get something to eat, and then we’ll head back to my apartment. You must be starving. I bet you forgot to eat in your museum excitement.”

Sam looked down as his smile turned rueful. “Yeah, I guess I did. But could we hurry? I’ve been looking forward to seeing your place since forever.”

Dee wasn’t sure her apartment was all that much to look forward to, but she was glad nonetheless for Sam’s eagerness. It was, perhaps, her favourite thing about London, even if it was small and a bit out of the way and the neighbours the neighbours were sometimes noisy.

It might not be the greatest of places, but it was _hers_.

* * * * *

The apartment was small, the wallpaper had seen better days (and the 70s probably missed them greatly), and the furniture was all second-hand, but it was nice and clean and _permanent_. Dee lived here, now. For the last couple of months, and the foreseeable future. She wasn’t used to this; knowing for sure (well, as sure as anyone could ever be) that she wouldn’t have to pack up and flee somewhere new tomorrow.

Yet, she still had only a few possessions in her apartment; her suitcase, always close at hand, easily reachable from the wardrobe; she still carried the rucksack wherever she went, filled with the things she’d need if she did indeed have to move quickly — but all of these were just leftover habits. Her future, for now, was stable. It was a wonderful, if strange and not completely trustworthy, feeling.

Sam put the takeaway they’d gotten on the way at the small kitchen table with just enough space for two people to eat at while Dee moved his bag into her bedroom, having insisted to bring them up the stairs to the third floor where she lived. Through some miracle she’d managed to talk Sam into taking her bed. She could sleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be very comfortable, but it would be better (although not by much) for her than the longlegs she’d just invited into her home — _her_ home — for the first time. Dee had already made the bed that morning, and put Sam’s bag beside it before she remembered the hat. She should probably try and find the owner. Put a notice in the paper or something. Not today, though. She putt the hat in a rarely used drawer in her wardrobe for now.

As they ate, they talked about what was going on back home. Dee knew some of it; she did skype Sam regularly. Bobby was the same as always. Dee quickly led the conversation onward, before it could linger. Adam was — well, nothing had changed there either. Dee felt bad that she wouldn’t be able to visit him anymore. She missed him. True, she’d only visited him very occasionally when she lived in the States either, but she’d always known she had the chance. She didn’t, not anymore. And she was pretty sure her legs had touched ground in the _land of the free_ for the last time. There was a reason she’d chosen to start over in a new country far, far away and not just in a different state: she didn’t like flying. Not at all. She’d done it that one time, coming here, and only managed thanks to copious amounts of alcohol and an incredibly nice flight attendant, and the knowledge that it really was something that she’d only have to do the once. She wasn’t going back. Not to make peace with Bobby and the rest of her extended family; not to visit Sam; and not to see Adam. She felt especially guilty about the latter. In a way, it was Dee’s fault Adam was in prison in the first place.

Sam shook Dee out of her thoughts when he came with actual new news. “…and Jess and I have started looking for an apartment together.”

Dee almost choked on her spring rolls. “What?”

“We’re moving in together!” Sam had that absolutely ridiculously in-love smile that always crept over his face when he talked about his girlfriend. “Bobby is probably sick of me, even if he does try to hide it. And, frankly, I feel like I need to move on my own soon anyway. I love Bobby, he’s always been there for us, been almost like a fath—” Sam stopped, changing what he’d been about to say, “he’s family, you know? But I’m 21, about to enter my last year of college, and it just feels right, somehow. Jess’ parents’ house isn’t very large, she feels like it’s crowded there. And we’ve been together over three years now. It’s not exactly a sudden, unexpected development, Dee.”

Dee had managed to swallow the spring rolls and took a deep swig of water before answering. “Yeah, I get it. Look at me; I moved to a different continent!” she joked. They both knew it went deeper than that, but neither commented on it. “It’s just, you haven’t said anything about this before. When did you guys decide?”

Sam looked down, abashed. “…a couple of months ago? We didn’t want to say anything about it before we’d found somewhere.”

Dee kicked him under the table, probably a bit harder than strictly necessary to get his attention. “Are you saying you’ve already found a place?” she said, some accusation in her tone. Sam said nothing, but hunched his shoulders ever so slightly, which was answer enough. “Holy hell! You great, big oaf, when where you going to tell me? Am I not the first one you’d go to with news like that?”

“…I’m telling you now?” Sam looked up at her again, apology written all over his face. “But you _are_ the first one to know. So please don’t tell anyone. We want to be completely sure we’ve got an okay place before we make any announcements.”

Dee had no idea who Sam thought she might tell, but she nodded anyway. “Sure. Congrats, baby bro.” She grinned as she stood up to refill their glasses in the sink.

* * * * *

The days of Sam’s visit flew by way too quickly for Dee’s liking. They went to see Ellen, Dee’s boss and an old friend of the family, at the pub. Sam hadn’t seen her since he was eight, when Ellen took her daughter Jo and moved from the States after her husband died in a work-related accident. Jo, much to Sam’s disappointment, was in France on a student exchange programme at the moment. The two of them had spent almost all their free time with each other back in the day, and Sam had been looking forward to seeing her again. Ellen promised they’d come visit him next time she and Jo went on holiday to the US.

“She’s still just as amazing as I remember her,” Sam said after they’d left, heading for the airport. “But also just as scary.”

Dee laughed. “Yeah, she hasn’t changed much. She’s been very kind to me since I came here. She not only gave me a job, but she helped me find the apartment as well.”

“She did?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment silence, which hung uncomfortably in the air between them before Sam broke it. “I do wish Jo had been here, though. I haven’t seen her in ages!”

“I’m sure she woulda loved to see you as well.” Dee shook her head. “I almost didn’t recognised her first time I saw her after coming here. She’s all grown up now. Little Jo! I never thought she’d grow up at all, she was so busy running around and getting you into trouble.”

“That’s not quite the way I remember it.” Sam smiled. “I was the one who kept pulling her _out_ of trouble. And you weren’t helping at all,” he said with a mock accusatory glare at Dee.

Dee only grinned and said, “Well, can’t argue with that. You were a very convenient scapegoat.” Sam scowled at her, but the effect was ruined by his grin.

“Thank you, though,” Sam said, solemn. His baggage had been checked in, and they were standing outside security, trying to find the right words to say goodbye.

“For what?”

“For everything you did for me growing up. Don’t think I don’t know about the things you did to keep me safe. I know what Dad was like sometimes. ”

Dee was struck speechless for a moment. She knew Sam must have seen some of it, but he’d only been ten years old when they’d gotten away the first time, so she’d always hoped he wouldn’t remember much of the little she thought he’d known. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my baby brother,” she said jokingly, but they both knew the very real truth behind those words.

“I know,” Sam said, pulling Dee into a giant hug that threatened to squeeze all the air out of her. “I wish you’d come visit one day. Jess and I would love to show you our place, when we’re all moved in.”

“Sounds to me like those apartment plans are a bit further along than what you gave the impression of the other day,” Dee said when she’d been released and had gotten her breath back.

Sam nodded shrugged. “Yeah. We’re signing the contract next week, actually.” He beamed.

“Wow, you two sure don’t waste any time!” Dee turned serious again. “I really would love to see it, but it’s not happening any time soon. Sorry. I… I don’t—”

“It’s okay, Dee,” Sam interrupted. “I know you would. It’s fine, really,” he added when Dee didn’t seem convinced. “I understand.”

Dee nodded, grateful. “Well. Have a safe journey home, and give my love to Jess.” She got pulled into another quick hug before Sam said goodbye and hurried off into security.

With a sigh, Dee waved before turning around and going home. Sam’s visit had been a much-needed break, but now it was back to reality. She should hurry; she had to be at work in a couple of hours.


	2. Chapter 1

Time flew by surprisingly quickly, despite the monotony of her life. Dee had lived in London for over three years now. She spent her time working, eating, sleeping. She rarely went out; her social life was a joke — just Jo, Ellen and a few other colleagues. Her sex life pathetic bordering on non-existent, and it seemed there was no romance in the cards for her in England. There was an obvious reason for that: it was hard to meet new people if you hardly ever left the house. Although she sometimes went for walks, but the weather, often chilly rain, made those less invigorating than she would’ve liked. Walking was nice. Dee enjoyed wandering around London, discovering all its green lungs and hidden treasures. Quite early on she’d found a cozy little café called LaFitte’s tucked off in a quiet alley. It had few patrons, positively heavenly coffee, comfortable seating, and was run by a middle-aged man who seemed gruff and intimidating at first, but was actually one of the most sweet-mannered people Dee had ever met. She wouldn’t recommend crossing him, though. While he was patient and kind to everyone, Benny could be real scary when he wanted to.

The excess amount of spare time had soon become troublesome, as Dee spent most of her days watching TV and trying not to let her mind wander too much. She had tried finding a hobby, but she quickly got bored or discovered it wasn’t for her after all. Drawing, writing, going to a gym, cooking classes, water polo… the list went on. Once, she’d even gone to some pop quiz club, and if that wasn’t rock bottom she didn’t know what was. Some of the activities had been fun, but just not interesting enough to do regularly, and the other people there alwas wound up annoying Dee to no end.

Recently, though, she’d taken to borrowing books from the library and reading for a couple of hours at LaFitte’s. It wasn’t exciting or exotic or social beyond her occasional conversations with Benny, but it was something to do that wasn’t watching TV or staring at the garish wallpaper in her tiny living room. Besides, the books were engrossing and sometimes Benny gave her free food with her coffee.

Today was such a day. Benny had given her a chocolate-filled croissant when he handed Dee her coffee, with the excuse that it was closing time soon and it wouldn’t be bought anyway and then he’d have to throw it away. Bullshit, Dee thought, as she knew Benny gave away excess edibles at the end of the day to a homeless shelter, but he was the closest thing she had to a friend outside of her workplace, so she said nothing about it, thanking him happily before throwing herself over the croissant.

She was almost done with her current read, _Insomnia_ by Stephen King. She’d have to go to the library tomorrow or the day after and get a new book. King had some good ones, but she tired quickly of the horror genre. People do that, Dee thought, when they have experienced too much actual horror in their lives. But King wrote well, and this book had such an apt name, Dee couldn’t help but pick it the moment she saw it. Reading was, after all, what she did when she’d given up sleep for the night, or been unable to go back to sleep after one of her nightmares.

She only had a handful of pages left when Benny ushered her out at closing time. Dee decided to forgo public transport and walk all the way home instead. That was almost four miles, but it was a fine September night, starry and quiet, and she’d been exhausted from working late at the pub the previous few days and hadn’t had time to go for a walk in over a week. Today had been her day off, finally, and after a sleepless night she’d spent the morning half asleep and then made pasta for dinner before leaving for the café.

Tomorrow it was back to work again, though. Her shift started at five, so Dee would have time to go to the library earlier. Or she could go an hour or so before work started. The library was only ten minutes away from the pub; she could sit there and read for a while. Yeah, that was a good plan. Especially since it meant she could sleep in. That would be wonderful, if the nightmares would just leave her alone for one night.

For once, she took the shortest way home. Usually she chose a less direct route that took her through parks and past as many of the old, deteriorating buildings that she found oddly reassuring to watch as she could. Tonight, however, the hope of a full night’s sleep and a late morning kept her tempo up and her way direct.

* * * * *

Dee did not get a full night’s sleep. She lay awake for hours before finally nodding off, and she woke from one of her recurring nightmares in the early hours of the morning, but she fell asleep again quickly and then slept until noon. Still, eight hours wasn’t bad at all. That was more sleep than she’d had in one night for months. Usually she was happy if she managed five hours.

She took her time showering and eating and doing the dishes and checking her emails (a rather sad affair; hardly anyone communicated with her via email) before leaving for the library. Dee found herself there at a quarter to four, and, after finishing and handing in _Insomnia_ , went straight for the shelves holding Fantasy books. She was in the mood for something epic and long and amazing and well-written. A librarians could probably have found her a book before Dee could say Tolkien’s full name, but she preferred browsing the shelves on her own, taking her sweet time and looking at all the books before finally picking one or two.

So many books. So much to choose from. She’d read some of them, a somewhat impressive number in her opinion, but it was just the tip of the iceberg. It’d take _years_ to get through them all — and the selection in the library was big, but it was still only the tip of the tip of the iceberg that was all the Fantasy books in the world. Not that it mattered. Dee didn’t plan to read all the books in the world. Only a good number of the better ones. And the library was a good place to get them from.

Sometimes, had an uncomfortable feeling of living a different life than the one she was meant for. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her life (although some days…), it was more like she was missing something, something that was supposed to be there. Like she had a purpose, like she was supposed to matter, to help people, only she’d taken the wrong turn at some point and missed the path to that life. This existence she had going here, fine though she supposed it was, felt bleak and meaningless in comparison.

Dee had looked at the books for more than half an hour before she finally took one out. And another one. And another. Three books, she thought. They all had interesting titles and blurbs, looked appropriately thick and time-consuming, and were written by authors she’d heard about, even if it was just a name mentioned in passing.

“ _American Gods_? That’s a good one,” said a voice from just behind her. Dee fancied there was something vaguely familiar about it, but it only nudged at something in the farthest reaches of her mind, so either it was a wrong association or someone she’d only met briefly, perhaps even back in the States; she couldn’t quite place the accent, but it was definitely American.

“Yeah? You read it?” Dee turned around, and was met by a peculiar sight. A woman, around her own age, stood behind her, with what could only be described as a mountain of books in her arms. There were thick books and thin books, well-read and seemingly unread books, English books and books in languages Dee had no chance of identifying from titles and alphabets, fiction and non-fiction, authors she recognised and authors with names she’d never heard of and probably couldn’t pronounce if she tried ever so hard. Most of them were connected to mythology in some way, she thought. Wait, was that an actual honest-to-God parchment roll? Jeez, that was one hell of a collection to be carrying around.

How the other woman had been able to see which books Dee had been looking at she had no clue, because her face was barely even visible behind the mountain in her arms. Her shoulder-length, curly hair was a disheveled mess, and her clothes were crumpled in a way that suggested they’d been slept in recently. Even her coat, a long, ill-fitting, beige, out-worn old thing, looked slept in. The woman’s face, or what Dee could see of it, looked as tired as her clothing, but her piercing blue eyes shone with a sharp spark of interest and energy.

“I have. It’s probably Gaiman’s best. I whole-heartedly recommend it,” the woman said, shifting her hold on the mountain as a book tried to escape from the top and she had to use her face to hold the rest in place while catching the runaway.

“Hmm. I’ve read one or two of his before, he’s pretty good.” Dee held out the other two books. “But I’ve been curious about that Brandon Sanderson fella, this _Way of Kings_ monstrosity looks pretty epic. And I’ve heard the Dresden Files is supposed to be good, and a long series besides, which means I’ll have my reading picked out for weeks.”

The other woman looked thoughtful for a moment. “Here, let me have a look,” she said as she set her pile of books and papers down on a nearby table, oblivious to the murderous stare the young man sitting there sent her before moving away.

“Nah, I’ll take your word for it. Road-trip across the states with the current master of storytelling it is, then.” Dee handed out the other two books anyway, as the woman seemed genuinely curious about them. When the books were out of her hand, she kept it stuck out. “I’m Dee, by the way.”

The woman looked at Dee for a second, and then to the outstretched hand, as if confused about what she was supposed to do. Hesitantly she stuck out her own hand, and Dee clasped it heartily. “Castiel. My name is Castiel,” she said, serious, a slight frown marring a face otherwise quite pleasant to look at.

Dee grinned at the other woman, curious about this stone-faced creature standing in front of her. She wondered why Castiel had gone up to her, a stranger, and talked to her, as she seemed awkward and a bit, well, unused to casual conversation with other humans. “Nice to meet you, Castiel. Come here often?” Ah, fuck, that was basically a pick-up line. Where had that come from? Something about this woman seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She couldn’t remember seeing Castiel here before. Frankly, she was pretty memorable, what with the book pile and the out-of-place coat and those sharp, sharp eyes. Dee was sure she’d remember such a sight. Still, pick-up lines were best left out of libraries and spared for bar runs.

Castiel didn’t seem to notice Dee’s awkward question. “No. I do frequent libraries, but I only discovered this one today.” She surveyed the pile she’d left at the table, which had melted into a messy heap. “My usual library failed me; I found they lacked a book I need rather urgently. It’s a bit of a rarity, but apparently they had it here. And then I found a few other books I’ve been meaning to have a look at, and some fiction I’ve been meaning to read, and…” She trailed off, lost in apparent admiration for the treasure pile she’d collected.

“Yeah, they have a lot of good stuff here,” Dee said, but she lost what she had meant to say next as the other woman looked up again and met her eyes. “Uhm,” she started lamely after God knew how long, “are you studying or something? I mean, that is a rather impressive bunch of books, and some of them are in languages I’m not sure I’ve even heard of.”

Castiel still wasn’t smiling, still wore that frown of hers, but her eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of her books. “Yes, I am. I’m getting a doctorate in mythology and religion. These are mostly for reference. Well. And a few fiction books, so I’ll get the occasional break from studying.”

_A few_? Dee could see at least seven books she had read or considered reading herself, and there were probably more in there, somewhere. Not to mention all the non-fiction. That was probably more books and than you could find in the curriculum of your average master’s degree in literature. “Wow. Well, you have diverse taste, I see.” All the books Dee recognised were in different genres and sub-genres. She chanced a look at the clock hanging over the door leading away from the Fantasy and Science Fiction section to the rest of the library, and noticed the time with a shock. “Shit. Sorry, I’m late for work. It was nice meeting you, though. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime?” Ugh, bordering on pick-up territory again. But this Castiel seemed like an interesting woman; Dee really did hope to see her again. Possibly a new friend. God knew Dee didn’t have too many of those outside work and her casual friendship with Benny.

“Perhaps.” Castiel nodded a goodbye before moving to gather up her books again. Was it just Dee’s imagination, or was that the smallest hint of the ghost of a smile she’d seen before the other woman had turned away? But she had no time to wonder. She really was late for work.

Dee hurriedly put the other two books back on the shelf, not bothering to check if she put them anywhere near where she’d found them, nearly ran over an old lady on her way to the counter where a librarian took his sweet time registering _American Gods_ on Dee’s card, and then she pretty much ran all the way to work.

Three minutes after her shift began. Crap. But she was usually very precise; Ellen would forgive her this one show of tardiness.

Probably.

* * * * *

Normally, while not reading slowly, exactly, Dee would take her time reading the books she borrowed. Not because she didn’t like them, but because good things, she found, was always better savoured, drawn out as long as possible. True, this philosophy was not something she stayed true to in regards to all good things — and especially not those of the edible kind, such as the holiness that is pie — but when it came to books, she read with almost religious care and thoroughness. Not this time, though. She made sure she read every word, but Dee had trouble putting it down. She didn’t quite know why, but it felt almost like she was trying to somehow figure out the woman she’d met at the library through the book.

Dee got lost amongst old and new gods, deceit and trickery, love and hatred. It wasn’t until her alarm rang at 10am that she realised she’d been up all night, despite being exhausted from work, which she’d only gotten home from some time after two. Fortunately, she had the last shift today as well, and could sleep most of the day away. Which she did, even though it meant putting down the book. But now that the time had been pointed out to her by the devilish cry of her alarm clock, she could feel how tired she was. And for once, she fell asleep right away, and had a night free from her usual nightmares — although she did wake up once, having dreamt that she’d been hanged in a holy tree.

* * * * *

Ellen might have accepted Dee’s slight lateness the other day with only a quick angry stare, but today she had no mercy for her.

“Dee, pull your ass out of whichever dreamworld you’ve gone off to. You are at work, not on a cuddly movie date on your couch.”

Dee realised with a start that she’d been tapping the same glass for quite some time. She couldn’t begin to guess how long she’d been standing there, but long enough for the beer to start pooling around her feet, making her shoes squishy and her jeans cling tightly to her calves. “Oh. Sorry, Ellen, I—”

“I don’t care. Kindly focus on your job for the two meagre hours you have left of your shift. I really have no patience for shirking tonight, after having to break up four fights and throw out several drunkards while you were busy staring at some invisible fairyland while, admittedly, managing to serve the other customers correctly, if rather more brusquely than I usually expect from my employees.”

“I know. Sorry.” Dee gathered her thoughts and focused on the people waiting impatiently for her to take their orders.

Truth be told, she’d actually been thinking of the book. Planning reading time. Tomorrow she had and earlier shift, starting at 10 in the morning, when the pub served more or less as a lunch restaurant. But it was a shorter one, finished 3pm, so if she got up a bit earlier than usual, she’d be able to finish the book before work, and then after work she could go back to the library and find a new read. Even if she didn’t manage to finish it completely before work, she wouldn’t have much left, and could read the last few pages at the library. And maybe she’d see Castiel again. That would be nice. Probably not, though. She’d said the other day was an exception, that she didn’t usually go to that library. Not that that mattered. Dee was going to the library to borrow new books, not to hang out with strangers.

She realised her thoughts had run off again, and pulled herself out of it. _For fucks sake, Dee, get it together. You’re not being paid to stand around and stare. Do your job, and you can think about books later._

Books, and blue eyes she couldn’t forget.


	3. Chapter 2

Dee didn’t finish the book before work, it turned out. She only had 15 pages left though; that shouldn’t take more than half an hour. She had time for that half an hour at the library, and then some more time to browse. Though, truth be told, she’d kind of already made up her mind about which book she was going to pick this time. If it hadn’t been for the chance meeting last time, Dee would have chosen _The Way of Kings_ by the rather impressively productive Brandon Sanderson, who kept spewing out new books up to several times a year.

She could see the allure _American Gods_ would have for Castiel, though. For a mythology and religion buff like her, that book must be even more interesting than Dee found it. And Dee found it pretty damn interesting indeed, although she hadn’t recognised all the gods; far from it. She had recognised Wednesday, though. She did have _some_ knowledge about mythology, even if she was a high school drop-out.

Today’s shift at work went much better. Perhaps because it was shorter; perhaps because the patrons were less drunk. Or a combination. But Ellen would have no reason to complain about Dee’s work efforts today. Even with the unruly customer who’d wound up throwing Dee’s tip in her face. She hoped she’d never see that bastard again. But she had handled it admirably, she thought, despite wanting nothing more than to choke him with his napkin. Or maybe drown him in the soup he hadn’t liked, and which had been the catalyst for his aggressive outburst.

Yes, catalyst was right. Not cause. Some people were just searching for something they could complain about. Dee thought the idiot who’d come up with the expression _the customer is always in the right_ had never done work that actually involved real-life customers.

But work was over now, and Dee didn’t have to think about it at all any more. She planned to go to LaFitte’s after she’d found a new book. Maybe Benny had fresh pie for her. Today she’d even pay for it, for once, even though the money was a bit tight these days. Sometimes, pie was worth a little overspending.

The library was quiet today. There were a couple of school kids there, but they had clearly been brought up well enough to know how to use indoor voices. They giggled every now and then, but Dee could live with that. Kids were kids. She would never do anything to take away from someone’s childhood. That was something she’d experienced personally, and while Dee had turned out pretty alright, she had missed some things. But one shouldn’t dwell on the past. Or something. Dee tried not to. What had happened had happened; there was nothing she could do to change that.

Right. Books. That was why she was here. Not to be jealous of some kids who had all the things she’d missed in her childhood. Like the opportunity to go to a library whenever they wanted.

Dee made her way to the Fantasy and Science Fiction section, and if she looked around a bit on her way there, it wasn’t because she was looking for disheveled hair behind a messy pile of books. Or a beige coat that had seen better days years ago. No; she was simply enjoying the quiet, and watching people pour over books with the delight she herself felt on her good days. And looking for a good place to sit down and finish her book, of course.

She spotted a truly ugly sofa in a hitherto unexplored corner by the Science Fiction shelves. It was green, and not a very flattering shade — more puke-green than anything else. The backrest was decorated with embroidered neon yellow flowers that looked like they’d been drawn by a drunk horse. The legs looked like… well, truth be told, Dee had no idea what such adornments were doing on a library couch. Who had decided this would be a great addition to this book-haven? Cuz those legs were not exactly family friendly. Ahem. Whoever designed that horrible piece of furniture deserved the Golden Raspberry Award of upholstery. Twice over.

But it looked to be comfy, a theory which was confirmed when she dug _American Gods_ out of her rucksack and sat down in the sofa. It was pretty great, actually. Maybe whoever had furnished the library had tried it out and decided nah, fuck it. This shit might not be the most aesthetically pleasing object in the world, but it’s hella good for sitting in. We’ll take it.

It didn’t take her long to finish the book. Dee felt a bit empty as she put it down, like she had had to say goodbye to a dear friend who was going away for a long long time. She’d had that feeling before, after finishing a good book. Not after every good book, but the ones that truly resonated with something inside you; the books which main characters became almost like friends as you read them. The books with stories that echoed something from your own life.

The box for returning books in was in the main room of the library, by the front desk, but Dee was happy to go there. Sometimes, you needed to just think for a bit after finishing a book. Holy hell, that had been some journey. Not a very cozy one for Shadow Moon, the frankly quite unfortunate main character, but still. A great story. She was glad she’d had it recommended to her.

After handing back the book — making a mental note that if she were to buy any books at some point in the future, _American Gods_ would absolutely be a good candidate — she walked back to the the Fantasy and Science Fiction room. Even though she had more or less decided her next book was to be _The Way of Kings_ , and had spent half an hour browsing that section of the library just the other day, Dee still wanted to look through it again. She might stumble over a gold find that had been put back since her last visit, or something she’d simply missed that day. Plus, she liked looking at books. Books gave her peace of mind, for some reason. Sammy had theorised, though only once to her face, that this might be because she had more control when reading. If something happened that she didn’t like, she could just close the book and never open it again, or return to it on a better day.

So she looked forward to at least another hour of happy book browsing.

Those plans, however, were cut short the moment she entered the room.

* * * * *

The pile in her arms wasn’t nearly as big today, but it was unmistakably Castiel. Same coat, same crow’s nest of a hair, same tired face, same sharp eyes. She was reading the back of one of the books in her hands. Dee stood in the door for a moment before catching up to the present and walking over to the Fantasy shelves, on which Castiel was leaning while looking deep inside the world of the book she was studying.

“Hi, Cas, I didn’t expect to run into you here again!” Well, that was the truth, Dee thought. She hadn’t. There might have been a small hope that she might see this curious woman again, but no expectations. Nope. None at all. “Which book is that?”

Castiel very nearly jumped before looking up at Dee. “What — oh.” She paused for a second, eyes flickering over Dee’s face. “Hello, Dee. Yes. I decided to go back with a few of the books I was finished with. They were taking up much space and making a bit of a clutter,” she said, and looked down at the book that had been the focus of her attention just a moment ago. When she looked up again, her face had lit up, as if a storm cloud had passed over it. Even her frown was gone. Mostly. “This is Beowulf, as translated by J.R.R. Tolkien. I’ve been meaning to get it, but it’s quite new, and I haven’t had the chance yet.” Castiel nodded thoughtfully, as if to herself. “Tolkien’s translation of Beowulf. I can’t wait to read it.”

“Wow. Dude’s been dead for over 40 years and is still giving out books. Pretty impressive.” Dee grinned, but her attempt at amusement fell short of Castiel, who only gave her a blank stare.

“Yes. Although it is the Tolkien Estate which is giving out the newer books, not Tolkien himself. This translation is one of his earlier works, completed in the mid-twenties. There’s commentary as well, taken from lectures he held. It’s quite exciting, really.”

“Yeah, I believe you,” Dee said, slightly overwhelmed by Castiel’s eager excitement, despite remaining perfectly calm, her voice having stayed the same throughout, and her face, while less frowny, was still pretty blank. “Saw the movie a couple of years ago, so probably not gonna read it. But it sound interesting. Tolkien was pretty great.”

“He was.” The frown came back. “You shouldn’t judge a book by the movies adapted from it, Dee. I have not read this translation yet, nor have I seen any of the films, but I can guarantee you are missing out.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. Just look at the Harry Potter movies. Most of them were okay, I guess, but the fourth one? Ugh.” Dee shuddered, only half in pretence. That truly had been an awful movie. She had managed to scrape together enough money to see it in the cinemas back when it was first released. Such a disappointment. It had not been worth the meals she had skipped to afford the ticket at all.

“This is better than any Harry Potter book,” Castiel said, still stony-faced, but a hint of indignation in her voice.

“Sorry. Yeah, it probably is,” Dee said. “But I also think it’s a bit too heavy for me. Beowulf; that’s some sort of poem, right? An old one?”

Castiel seemed almost offended by this, but replied in that steady tone of hers. “Yes, it’s an epic poem composed somewhere around a thousand years ago. It is still a popular story today.”

Dee nodded placatingly. “Yeah. I’m still not gonna read it, sorry. I really hope you enjoy it, though.” She decided it was time for a change in subject. Castiel had never veered into any hostile mode yet, but she was definitely not enjoying the conversation much. That was probably Dee’s fault, she supposed, due to lack of education or something. She never had paid as much attention in literature class as she probably should have. But she had known what Castiel was talking about, so that was something, at least. “Have you read much of Tolkien’s other works, then?”

“Yes. I have read most of them. I have of course read _The Lord of the Rings_ , which is arguably his most well-known book, but by far his best work. I find the posthumously published _History of Middle-earth_ series to be highly fascinating. _The Silmarillion_ and _Unfinished Tales_ , both also published after the author’s death and edited by his son Christopher Tolkien, who has great knowledge of his father’s work, also add much to the world told of in _The Lord of the Rings_.” Castiel looked down awkwardly for a second, looking at the fine hardback book Dee could now see had “Tolkien” written in large letters across the front. “He has quite a few other very interesting works, most of them related to his famous Middle-earth in some way, but not all of them. Not every one has managed to capture my attention equally, but I find they are all worth a read.”

“Wow,” Dee said, almost rendered speechless by the torrent of words flooding out of Castiel’s mouth. “I’ve only read _The Hobbit_ and _The Lord of the Rings_ , back when I was a kid. I see I’ve missed out on a bit.”

Castiel didn’t answer at first, only turned her back to Dee to get something from the shelves behind her. “If you’d like, this is a good place to start.” She held out a book for Dee.

“ _The Silmarillion_? Nice. Thanks.” Dee took the book and scrapped all plans for Kings and Ways and 1000 pages long books for a not-as-thick but deceptively dense book with dramatic red and black colours on the cover, and a man throwing a glowing something in the sea.

It looked good, at least, if she were to judge from the illustration on the cover. No one would draw something like that for a crappy book. Dee considered the book for a second, and when she looked up, her mouth was speaking without permission from her brain.

“Hey, Cas, I was just about to go to this café not far from here and read. They have really good pie there. You wanna come with?” Damn it, where had that come from? Dee really didn’t want to socialise today. And she might have to share pie, to be polite. Sharing pie was not something she did happily. True, it might be nice to hang with Castiel for a bit, but Dee still half hoped she’d decline.

Castiel looked taken aback for a second, but then that very-small-and-almost-there smile crept onto her face, her usual frown melting away almost completely. “I — Thank you for the offer. Unfortunately, I have to attend a lecture in half an hour. I’m sorry.”

Despite that little hope she’d had, Dee still found herself curiously disappointed. She smiled all the same, and it was a genuine smile, because Castiel really had sounded sorry. “It’s fine. Thanks for the book recommendation.” Dee waved the book a little before turning around and walking towards the door. “I really liked the last one,” she said as she walked through the door, stopping and turning around to look at Castiel again. “See you, Cas.”

“Goodbye,” Castiel said, and Dee walked out the door, on her way to the counter to borrow the book, but she still heard Castiel quietly repeating Dee’s nickname for her, as if trying it out for the first time.


	4. Interlude I

He could hear them again. It happened more often, now; after Dad stopped trying to controlhis drinking. After Adam left.

Sam still didn’t understand why Adam had gone. Or where. But he did understand that it was because of Dad, somehow. And that Adam still loved Sam and Dee, still missed them, still wished he hadn’t left. Which was why Sam couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t come back. Not even to visit them.

Adam had left them to live on the streets. Sam knew that. Adam had tried to hide that from him, hadn’t wanted to tell him. But Dee had told him. Dee didn’t like lying to Sam, she had said. And this, leaving, was Adam’s decision. Dee hadn’t wanted him to leave either, she missed him too. But there was nothing they could do about it.

 _He still loves you very much_ , she had said. Sam knew that. He knew Adam had wanted to leave earlier. He had told him. But he’d waited until after Sam’s birthday, so he could wish him happy birthday and give him a birthday hug. He had also tried to give him a birthday present, even though Sam knew Adam couldn’t afford to buy much.

Sam never found out what the present was. Dad took it away from Adam, said something about _wasting money_ and _no space_ and _you know he’ll only lose it next time we move_. And then he threw it into the fireplace.

It looked like it might have been a book, Sam thought. He didn’t ask Adam. Not before; and after, during their rare, short phone calls, they never talked about stuff that had anything to do with Dad. But Sam was grateful. Adam had bought him a present. And even if he never actually got it, that was good enough for Sam.

And he knew it had cost Adam dearly. Not just the money he had (hopefully) used; it might have come from a second-hand store or something. No one had said anything, not Dee, not Adam, and definitely not Dad, but when Adam left the day after, he had a nasty bruise just under his eye, and he had been limping.

They all seemed to think Sam didn’t notice these things. He wasn’t stupid, though. He knew they regarded him as a small child. That was, admittedly, not _that_ far from the truth. But he was eight and a half now. Not a grown-up, but definitely old enough to understand most of the things around him, Sam thought. Old enough to see what was going on around him.

And he noticed everything. Adam’s black eye and limping when he’d left. The way he always wore long sleeves, so the fading bruises on his arms and shoulders wouldn’t show when he went to the grocery store, or the few times he attended school. The scars on his back that he’d said he got when climbing trees when Sam was little. Sam couldn’t be sure, he’d only been four years old at the time, but somehow, he didn’t think that was the whole truth.

The way Dee always made sure to be close by when Dad and Sam were in the same room. The backpack she always kept close, which she jokingly told Sam was emergency supplies in case of a zombie apocalypse every time he asked her about it. The way Dee had looked at Dad differently after she’d broken her arm when she was ten. It had been a bike accident, she had said to Sam. She and some of her friends from school had raced down a hill on one of their bikes, and Dee had hit a rock.

It might have been true. That was a couple of years ago, and Sam didn’t remember much from back then, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing Dee hanging out with her friends. He didn’t think she had any. They moved around too often, and Dee always came straight home to watch over Sam, who received home tutoring.

Sam noticed that every day he awoke to discover Dee or Adam had a new injury, Dad had been drinking the night before. Heavily.

And lastly, Sam noticed the way Dee, and previously Adam as well, always stepped carefully around Dad. Never did anything to make him angry. Never disobeyed when he told them to do something. Never talked back to him.

Well. That wasn’t quite true. Dee did that quite often, but only after Sam had gone to bed, when she thought he was sleeping.

Like tonight.


	5. Chapter 3

_The Silmarillion_ turned out to be drier than expected. It felt a bit like a history book, really. With a bit of religion and folklore and fairytales mixed in. Dee still enjoyed it, although she did not read it anywhere near as quickly as she read _American Gods_. She even went to the library again — Cas-free trip this time, and Dee wasn’t quite sure how she felt felt about that — to borrow another book she could read when _The Silmarillion_ proved too heavy.

Of course, _The Way of Kings_ wasn’t exactly a walk in the park either. Holy crap, that was some book. And it was quite heavy too, in the most literal sense of the word. Who the fuck even writes books that thick? Where do they get the words from? Dee was of the opinion that about half the book could’ve been cut and no one would have missed any of it.

She still enjoyed it immensely, though. It really put the _epic_ into Epic Fantasy. That Sanderson dude could write, no doubt about that.

Dee was at LaFitte’s again. It was Thursday; Benny always had apple pie on Thursdays. Always.

Except today.

“Sorry, Dee. My apple shipment never came. I can’t do anything about it,” Benny explained apologetically.

“But… but… pie? Apple pie? It’s Thursday, Benny!” Dee knew she was being unnecessarily upset by what was, in her opinion, very sad news, but she couldn’t help it. All coherent thought had walked out the door the moment she heard the words _no_ and _apple pie_ together. “Thursday is apple pie day! How can there not be apple pie?”

Benny only shrugged. He knew there was more behind her feelings than lack of apple pie, but he never said anything about it. He never did. Benny knew Dee well enough to read her moods, but their relationship was casual and they both liked it that way, so they didn’t talk about serious personal stuff, if they could avoid it. “I have cherry pie. You can get a slice for half the price,” Benny said, pointing towards an admittedly delicious-looking pie with a perfect grille patterned crust. “I’ll throw in a croissant as well, to make up for the lack of apple pie. I will have it next Thursday, Dee. And it might be the shipment is only delayed by a day or two, in which case I promise to make apple pie this weekend.”

Dee wasn’t really happy with this. She had looked forward to apple pie all day, all the way through what had pretty much been a hellish shift at the pub earlier today, and now there was no apple pie to be had. At least not here. And she wasn’t going anywhere else. Benny’s pies were the best in London.

Still, she nodded. “Thank you, Benny. It’s not apple, but your cherry pie isn’t bad either.” Somehow, she managed a grin, despite her troubles the last couple of days. “And a cup of coffee, if you please.” Wow, manners. When had she found those? Surely not down any of the paths her mind had taken in the last few sleepless days. Nothing good ever came out of those wanderings.

Though if she were honest, she kind of preferred sleepless nights to the ones filled with nightmares. When she lay awake at night she only had memories and her own thoughts. The nightmares were like memories come to life again, often with certain details made worse.

Dee had no idea of how many times she had watched Sammy die in her dreams. Which was definitely worse than what had happened. The real events weren’t exactly cozy, but Sam’s life had never been in danger.

Well, not that time. It might have been later, if things had been allowed to escalate, but they hadn’t, and Sam was safe now.

Yeah. Not only did she think about those things all night instead of sleeping, she had to think about them during the day as well. Awesome.

Fortunately, she was saved from her thoughts by Benny, who came to Dee’s table with her cherry pie, croissant and coffee.

_Pie. You have pie. Focus on pie instead. Then read in your book._

Right. Easier said — or rather, thought — than done.

* * * * *

There is no such thing as bad pie.

Well, there is, but not if Benny LaFitte made it. Dee was sure that man had never made a foul-tasting — or even a slightly less than delicious — pie in his life. He had probably never burned a pie, or put salt instead of sugar in the filling, or accidentally used mouldy fruit, or “accidentally” eaten all the dough before it had even seen the oven.

Benny was _the_ god of pie, in Dee’s opinion, and as a self-styled pie-expert she knew what she was talking about. She could make pies herself, and they were far from bad, but they would never get anywhere near the same level of magnificence as Benny’s.

And even if it wasn’t apple pie, his cherry pie was pretty damn fantastic as well.

The croissant wasn’t too bad, either.

Dee’s thoughts were in a considerably better place as she walked home after the delicious dinner — if she ate it after getting off work and did not intend to make anything else later, she could damn well call it dinner if it fucking pleased her, even if the meal only consisted of sweet baked goods — than they had been at the café. She decided it was all thanks to Benny and forgave him for the lack of apple pie. Even if it hadn’t been his fault in the first place; not really. (Except Dee totally thought he should have run down to the grocery store nearby and bought apples for a pie, just for her. Which made the lack of apple pie very much Benny’s fault. Still; he was forgiven.)

It was only reasonable, she thought. She couldn’t stay mad at someone forever just over pie.

Dee very nearly choked at the thought. _Just_ over pie? _Just_ and _pie_ had absolutely nothing to do with each other, ever. There was nothing _just_ about pie.

Unless you had done something good and you received pie for your efforts. That was just.

But Benny had promised to send her a text if he got his apples later and made apple pies this weekend. He’d even promised her a discount.

You couldn’t stay mad at someone who gave you discounts on pie. _Especially_ if said pie was apple pie. It was only logical. And sensible. And the right thing to do.

Dee upped her pace. She wasn’t really in a hurry, because she had the day off tomorrow, and, well, half past eight wasn’t all that late, so — assuming that she’d be able to fall asleep — she would still get a long night’s sleep if she went to bed when she got home now.

And fuck, was she in need of a long night’s sleep right now. Dee wasn’t sure how long it had been since she slept last, but it had been days. She’d met Castiel at the library last Wednesday, and she’d slept that night, but she wasn’t sure if she had slept any more after that.

This wasn’t the first time Dee had gone for an extended period of time without sleep. Her insomnia was really bad at times. Her previous record of going without even a second-long doze of sleep was two months, one week, and four days. That had been hell.

It wasn’t so bad this time. She still functioned reasonably well. Perhaps she was a bit more grumpy and irritable with bothersome patrons at work, and she might have been a bit curt with Sam when he had skyped her the other day, but apart from that, she was doing more or less just the same as usual. True, her usual sleep time averaged at about 3-4 hours per night, which was a few hours less than recommended and probably not healthy in the long run, but what could you do. If you can’t sleep, you can’t sleep, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Well, except maybe take sleep medication. And Dee absolutely refused to do that. No; she sometimes drank a glass or two of whiskey before bed in the hopes that it might help, but she’d be damned if she was going to start taking meds for this.

It was just sleep, anyway. Not that important. It bothered no one but herself. She was the only one suffering because of this. And the unruly patrons, but they kind of brought it on themselves. If they wished her to be nice to them, they just had to behave like normal human beings with an ounce of politeness and respect for others, for fuck’s sake. And if they couldn’t, that sure as hell wasn’t Dee’s problem.

She decided to cut off on her walk to get home sooner. It was getting a bit nippy, if she were honest. Dee would never admit to being cold, of course, not when it was only early October temperatures. _London_ early October temperatures, at that. She had definitely seen colder weather. But there was a bite to the wind, even if the wind itself wasn’t too bad, and she hadn’t exactly dressed as warmly as she perhaps should have.

Dee was of the opinion that she dressed however she liked, and if the weather didn’t fit it, the weather could fucking change itself. She refused to accept that she had to adapt to its every whim. No one dictated what Deanna Winchester could and could not do.

Not even the weather gods.

Home was in its usual semi-tidy state. Not because Dee was a neat-freak or even all that interested in cleaning or anything, but simply because she didn’t have all that many possessions to throw around her small apartment. And she cleaned up garbage pretty much before it had time to do anything but dream of cluttering.

Just because she wasn’t a germophobe didn’t mean she had to be a slob. Nor did she want mice or beetles or bugs or whatever, so best keep the hygiene above a certain low, even if her standard might only be worthy of someone else’s low.

Most of the mess today was unfolded laundry and old newspapers. Why she even read those rags Dee wasn’t quite sure. She read most of the news she was interested in on the internet, and the newspapers were almost filled to the brim with celebrity gossip which was about as interesting as chess championships. Meaning she sometimes paid attention when she was in the same room as someone talking about it and she was not preoccupied with anything else, but not much at other times. Who the fuck even cared who got married or threw a party or accidentally showed the tiniest glimpse of a boob or got pregnant or divorced or whatever. That was the kind of things you might care about in a friend’s life, but Dee suspected very, very few — if any — of those who wrote those things, and not a particularly large number of those who read them or talked about them either, knew any of the celebrities personally.

Oh well. Paper recycling was good for the environment. Perhaps it would have been even better for the environment if Dee quit buying those shit rags in the first place, but what the hell. She was only one ordinary person living in a small apartment in London. She alone made little to no difference in the long run.

Despite her many days and night without sleep, Dee thought 9 pm was a bit early to go to bed. She did not feel like eating anything — well, she would, but only if she didn’t have to make it herself — and there wasn’t much else to do apart from reading, which she felt done with for the day, or checking her email, which was usually a terribly fruitless task as all she got there was mostly emails from Ellen about this month’s shifts and occasionally pictures from Sam, so she decided she could just as well fold those clothes before bedtime.

Maybe folding clothes was like counting sheep and she’d be able to visit the lands of the Dream King tonight.

* * * * *

A week later, Dee still hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. She was starting to feel a bit exhausted and quite sick of all the waking nights, but she couldn’t help it. Night came, and even on the nights when she managed to not dwell on the past, sleep eluded her anyway. Ellen had started to comment on how Dee was getting a bit sloppy at work. Nothing major, just little things, but that was unusual for Dee, and was everything okay?

Yes, everything was okay. Or at least, that was what Dee had told her. And it was. Dee’s life was as okay as it could get. She had had better periods than this, but it wasn’t too bad. She did wish she had a friend, though. She never spoke about personal matters with Benny if it could be avoided, and Ellen, while an old friend of the family, felt more like an aunt, and you didn’t always talk about everything with your aunt, no matter how good your relationship with her was. And then there was Jo, but Dee couldn’t help but think of her as more of a little sister than a friend. They didn’t hang out much either in any case.

Which left… No one. Those were all the regulars in Dee’s life. And Sam, the only one she kept in touch with at home, he was so far away. He couldn’t help her much in any case. No need to worry or upset him with negativity from her life if she didn’t have to.

No friends. How sad was that.

Dee had no one in her life apart from her brother — who came with a pretty cool girlfriend, but still — the owner of a café she frequented, and her boss and the boss’s daughter. There was no one else.

Well, there was Castiel. For some reason Dee almost thought of her as a friend, even though they had only met twice. At the _library_. And not by design, either. Those had been random encounters. More or less; Dee had kind of hung out there a bit more often than usual those days a few weeks ago and it might have kind of been in the hopes that she might run into Cas again. Still, it wasn’t much to call a friendship. Acquaintances, yes; friends, no. Although she didn’t even know Castiel’s last name, so maybe acquaintances was too strong a word as well.

But if Dee did see her again, which she hoped, because there had been something about Castiel that made her want to spend more time with her, she would suggest doing something together again. Castiel had sounded genuinely sorry when she said no last time. That might have been because she was trying to be polite, but Dee didn’t think so, somehow. It might be wishful thinking, but she kind of fancied Castiel had enjoyed talking to Dee as well as the other way around.

However, that wouldn’t solve her current troubles. She highly doubted Castiel would magically make Dee sleep better at night, and, even if they did become friends, it was still way too early in their relationship for Dee to start rambling about all her faults and mistakes and her less-than-awesome past.

It was Dee’s day off again, and she had no plans for the day. Which was nice. That meant she could do whatever she wanted, without having to worry about work times or tiring herself out before her shift — as if she wasn’t more or less wandering around in constant exhaustion these days because of the lack of sleep.

She briefly considered going to the library, but decided against in on the grounds of it feeling a bit too stalkery. Even if Dee was completely clear on the point that she would not be looking for anyone there.

No hope for random encounters. Just reading plans. But, as she had concluded, not today.

* * * * *

As it turned out, Dee didn’t do anything at all that day, after deciding not to go to the library. She went grocery shopping because the fridge was looking a bit desolate, and she made homemade pizza for dinner, but apart from that she either lay on the coach and relaxing, with the slim-but-still-there hope that she might nod off, or she read in one of the books. _The Silmarillion_ was best enjoyed in small portions, Dee had found. _The Way of King_ was a monster that felt like it would never end — because it was such a thick book, not because it sucked, because it most definitely did not suck — but, if she just sat down and read, the pages flew by surprisingly quickly.

Which was why, two days later, she found herself in need of another trip to the library. Today Dee didn’t find it stalkery at all. Yes, she had only meant to go and read the other day, if she had gone, but today she actually had to go to the library. She was out of books. She had even finished _The Silmarillion_ , despite its history book-like feel. It was quite enjoyable, really. And Dee had found it surprisingly interesting to find out what had happened in the distant past of Middle-earth, many long years before Bilbo the hobbit had come in possession of the One Ring.

Who knew Gandalf was _that_ old. That was, everyone knows he’s old, but whoa, Dee thought. There’s old, and there’s _old_ , and then there’s **_old as fuck_** , and Gandalf was firmly in the latter category.

What now? Well, Dee thought she knew. She had looked it up on the internet, and it seemed Brandon Sanderson had written a sequel for _The Way of Kings_. One that was, by the looks of it, just as long. How he managed at all, Dee had no idea. Those two books weren’t the only ones the man had published during the last few years. They weren’t even two out of four or five. They were two among _several_ , several in this case meaning more than five. Without counting novellas and short stories, Dee had counted over 10 books by Sanderson released the last four or five years, with even more books — yes, plural — coming soon.

Goddamn. That was impressive.

Dee had tried writing a book once. A memoir, of sorts. It had gotten a bit too personal and she had given up quickly, but not before realising that writing was _hard_ and much more work than it sounded like. So 10 books in half a decade? Respect, man. So much respect.

Yeah. Sanderson was definitely a writer Dee was going to pay attention to from now on. Starting with reading the second book in The Stormlight Archive, _Words of Radiance_. If it was even half as good as _The Way of Kings_ , she would be more than happy.

She thought she’d look for another book anyway. As she had discovered reading _The Silmarillion_ , sometimes when you read books that were a bit heavy — wether in the literal (heh, literal) or figurative sense — it was nice to have something lighter near at hand, in case you wanted to read more, but you were too tired (and boy, was Dee tired these days) or not focused enough or just not in the mood for the first book.

Dee had no idea what this second book was going to be. Maybe another Neil Gaiman book. Or one of Sanderson’s other books, though she didn’t think she’d choose that. One book by the same author at a time was probably a good rule. Or perhaps she’d pick that third book she had been looking at the day she met Castiel. It had been the first book in a series. Dresden Papers or Files or Archives or some such. It had looked promising, with magic and detectives and murders and sarcasm, which was, really, all you needed to have a greatly entertaining book. But from what she had seen, that series was quite long, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to start another long series just now, no matter how entertaining it was.

Browsing it was, then.

* * * * *

The library was exceptionally quiet today, for a Saturday. Usually she avoided going there on the weekends, because there ere kids everywhere, lots of grown-ups trying to control the kids or strangers scowling at the noise the children made, and a bunch of teenagers who mostly looked like they were enjoying themselves looking for and reading books but were trying to hide it.

Today, however, there was only a handful of people in the library. A couple of children, their parents, an old couple slowly looking through the biography section, an old man reading a paper in the corner — and Dee, of course. Three librarians were also there, one woman looking exceptionally bored standing behind the counter, and man and woman busying themselves by re-shelving books, sorting through messy shelves, and picking up several books that had been scattered all over the place by earlier visitors.

Dee had already decided that she was in mood for Fantasy. Again. No wonder, really; she always defaulted back to the Fantasy genre when she was having a tough time. And she was most definitely having a tough time now. Over two weeks with no sleep.

The only good thing that could be said about the lack of sleep was that it also meant no nightmares, but the memories the nightmares were based on/came from still visited her often, and especially when she lay awake at night.

After handing _The Silmarillion_ and _The Way of Kings_ to the bored-looking librarian at the counter, Dee made her way to the Fantasy and Science Fiction section, looking around in wonder at the emptiness of the library. There might be more people in some of the other rooms, but she hardly thought there would be hiding enough folks in any of them to make up the normal number of library visitors on a Saturday. And if she were being honest, she kind of was looking for a specific visitor today, because, on the way to the library, she had made up her mind about about something.

Dee had realised that she really needed a friend, because being as much on her own as she was really wasn’t healthy for her, and Castiel was a prime — and, sadly, the only — candidate for the position. Even if she had seemed a bit reserved and awkward, Dee had found her quite interesting, and she had shown a great knowledge and love for books that Dee found incredibly endearing. And she had realised that there was only one way Castiel and Dee would become friends: Dee would have to take some initiative. Castiel didn’t seem like the kind of person who invited people she didn’t really know to friend-stuff, and if Dee didn’t do anything, her grand plans of friendship would never happen.

But Castiel wasn’t in anywhere near the Fantasy shelves. Dee resolved to find a book or two first, and then she’d look through the other rooms in the library, just to be on the safe side, and if she didn’t see any disheveled, blue-eyed woman with a great bunch of books and papers in her hands, Dee would come back tomorrow. She had an early shift, and could go straight to the library after having something to eat. She’d spend the day reading, which was the most natural thing in the world to do in a library, and if she saw no Castiel tomorrow either, Dee would just come back some other time.

Her mind made up, and plans in the making for the coming week, Dee located _Words of Radiance_ without hesitating, picked up some random thin-ish book that looked somewhat interesting, and put her plan into motion.


	6. Chapter 4

Dee went to the library very every day for nearly three more sleepless nights. She’d finished _Words of Radiance_ and five lighter books in all her time spent there, and was looking for a new, exciting books to take _Words of Radiance_ ’s place.

There had been no sight of Castiel. Dee didn’t think that was to surprising; Castiel had said she didn’t go to this particular library often, after all, and even if she had been there at some point during the last three weeks, it might have been while Dee was still at work, or earlier in the morning, or something. Dee had tried to sit so that she would be able to keep an eye on the entrance to the library, but she might have missed something anyway, and maybe Castiel had been there, seen her, and chosen to ignore her. Or not noticed her. Or maybe she had noticed her, but felt she was being stalked and turned around and gone before Dee had the time to spot her.

Ah, negative thinking. Dee was very good at that. But, on what she supposed might be a positive note, most of the librarians now recognised her on sight. One of them, a young redhead who, apparently, was the head of the Fantasy and Science Fiction books, had even talked to her a bit. She’d introduced herself as Charlie, and she seemed pretty cool. But now she was asking… _difficult_ questions.

“Hey, you waiting for someone?”

Dee only stared dumbly at her. “Sorry?”

“You’re looking for someone. It’s pretty obvious.” Charlie’s smile was curious but kind and helpful, though the effect of the latter was somewhat spoiled when she waggled her eyebrows. “It’s clearly someone special.”

Dee still hadn’t found her words. “…Special?” she repeated. God, she sounded stupid. But her brain wasn’t working properly today — probably not unrelated to the sleep deprivation — and she didn’t quite see what the librarian was getting at.

“Yeah. You come here every day, for weeks now, and you sit and read but you still keep an eye on the door, looking at pretty much every person walking in or out. And on some days, you even walk through the entire library. It doesn’t take a detective to figure you’re looking for someone. Probably someone important to you if you spend so much time and energy waiting for them.”

Oh. Dee’s brain was catching on. _Oh_. “Uhm…” She hesitated. What was she supposed to say? _Yeah, there’s this person I met twice and I want to see her again so I come here all the time I can to wait for her but I’m totally not stalking her or anything I just want to talk to her again in a completely non-creep way_ was a bit… not right. “I am. Sort of. Mostly I’m just reading. But I met someone here a few weeks back, and I’d like to talk to/see her again, and I don’t know where else to find her.”

Charlie waggled her eyebrows again. “Really,” she said, tone way too knowing and suggestive.

“Not like that, you perv,” Dee said, laughing. “She just had awesome taste in books, even recommended a few to me, and she seemed pretty cool. And I wouldn’t mind more book recommendations from her either, because the ones so far were great.”

“Oh. And here I was hoping for some super romantic story or something, and it turns out you’re just a stalker.” Charlie laughed. “No, sorry. I understand. I hope you find her. And you are, of course, more than welcome to wait for her here. I can’t help but love it when people just sit and read here, especially when they pick great books from my department.”

“Thanks. This is a pretty good reading place anyway,” Dee said, “running into Cas again would just be a happy side effect to my reading trips here.” Though Benny was probably wondering what had happened to her. Hah. She made a mental note to go there next apple pie Thursday. That was almost a week away, but it’d have to do.

“Yeah. I gotta run, my boss likes to remind me that I’m not paid for chatting.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Happy reading, and good luck.”

“Thanks.” Dee smiled and gave Charlie a small wave as she left the room.

To think that she had forgotten all about apple pie Thursday the last few weeks. But Benny was probably doing just fine without her. And it wasn’t like she’d been at LaFitte’s for the last time ever. Dee was going back. In almost a week. With her long days and nights, that felt like an eternity. But she found she was really looking forward to next Thursday.

* * * * *

As it turned out, Dee went back to LaFitte’s before Thursday after all.

It was Monday, and Dee had just gotten off a long shift at work. She’d started at 8 am, to do dreaded Paper Work and some economy shit before the pub opened at 10. Ellen might be one of the nicer bosses in this world, but Dee still had some less-than-friendly thoughts for her occasionally. In Dee’s world, nothing of import should happen before 9, so she could sleep past the early morning and wake up in time for late morning, like all sensible people in the world should strive to.

True, Dee still didn’t sleep much at all so it didn’t actually affect her waking time anyway, but principles, man.

She stopped at a burger joint on her way from the pub to the library and had a cheeseburger and some fries, because she couldn’t both be unable to go to sleep _and_ eat healthy all the time. And anyway, she deserved it. For that stupid paper work she’d done this morning. Blergh.

Anyway, it was one of the nicer burger places. Dee went there fairly regularly. They were clean and had good food, and the owner recognised her and often gave her extra fries. Bless him.

When she got to the library, she sat down in her usual reading place out in the main part of the library, where she could keep an eye on the door, and took out her book. She’d discovered that Stephen King had actually written a pretty epic series as well, which suited her just fine. It was in the Fantasy genre, but knowing King, there were a couple of horror elements thrown in there. Maybe it would scare her insomnia away.

Probably not. But she still thought King’s The Dark Tower series would be a pretty good match for her current moods, so whatever.

Dee had sat for a few hours and read after Charlie had left her on Friday, and then she read quite a lot on Saturday and Sunday as well, so she was very nearly finished with _The Gunslinger_ , the first book in the series.

The last pages went by quickly. She handed the book to the librarian behind the counter; not Charlie, but some older woman who spoke to everyone as if she were their kindly old grandmother. That annoyed Dee a bit, because she’d never known any of her own grandparents, and she sure as hell didn’t like a stranger taking that role, even for a second. Though there wasn’t much she could do about it without being incredibly rude, so she tolerated it for the few seconds she had to and hurried to the Science Fiction and Fantasy room to find the next book in the series.

Dee sat for hours, reading. Well, a couple of hours, anyway; the library closed at 9, and it had been almost 6 when she got there. She was so into her book she almost forgot to keep an eye on the door, but she was pretty sure she’d seen everyone going in or out. She had recognised no one, except one person, who was a regular at the bar. He hadn’t looked at her, and she really wasn’t interested in talking to any of the customers outside her work time. Most of them were okay, but not all, and she had a tendency to get a bit sick just looking at any of them too long. Especially this guy. He really couldn’t hold is liquor, and Dee had had to clean up his vomit on more than one occasion.

She looked at the time. 8:37. Dee probably should start thinking about going home. She had to clean her apartment tonight. In her sleep-deprived state she had forgotten about it and put it off for far too long, but tonight she had made a deal with herself. Well, it was a pretty lame deal, which she got nothing out of except clean dishes, but still. It had to be done. And she kept trying to go to bed early, just in case she finally did fall asleep and could get a good, long night’s sleep, for the first time in very long.

Someone sat down beside her. Dee didn’t look up, the book was getting to a very interesting point, and apart from looking up to see the people going in and out of the library doors occasionally, and musing on when to leave, she had no attention left for anything that wasn’t Roland and his apparently growing bunch of misfits.

The other person left her in peace, and all was good. Dee wasn’t sure why the stranger had picked her sofa to sit in when there was so many other sitting spaces free elsewhere, but whatever. So long as it wasn’t some dude hoping to grope her or something she didn’t really care.

After a few minutes, Dee took out her phone to see the time again. The librarians appreciated it when people were out of there before closing, so they didn’t have to walk around and usher on them. As her phone told her the time was 8:52 and she’d have to pack up and leave soon, she got the curious feeling that someone was looking at her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know who it was, or just her imagination. It might be the person who had, uninvited, sat down on Dee’s couch, but if it was that person and he was the aforementioned groping dude, he was in for a surprise. Dee had a lot of things she could say about her father, and not all of it was good, but he had taught her to fight, if for, perhaps, slightly wrong reasons. And later her older brother — well, half-brother, but that was just semantics — Adam had taught her a few self-defence tricks he’d learned from his mentor. He’d never told Dee much about that guy, only called him _mentor_ and never given a name or background or a story of how they’d met, but from what Dee gathered, this mentor had helped Adam when he’d lived on the streets.

That was a long time ago, now. Not that long in actual, countable years, but a lot had happened since then. However, Dee still knew how to fight, where to hit your opponent so it hurt like hell but did no damage, where to hit to _do_ damage, where to hit to incapacitate so you could get away. Where to hit to kill.

She had never lost a fight. Some would argue that she had, and she would know what they’d mean, but those hadn’t been fights, not really. A fight required more than one active participant. She had been very active in the vocal quarrels, but the following physical blows? Dee had been very passive indeed, hoping that if she didn’t fight back, he might stop sooner. Maybe it had helped, maybe not; she would never know.

Ah, well. She had to pack up and leave any minute now, she might as well figure out who was looking at her, if it were indeed anyone but her imagination. And if she had to fight anyone today, she wanted to know as soon as possible, so she could start planning her tactics plus get pissed at them already.

Dee closed her book, picked up her rucksack from the floor, and cast a quick glance at the other person sitting on her couch to see if they were a threat, just a harmless if annoying gazer, or not related to her feeling of being watched at all.

As it turned out, all three guesses were wrong.

Dee almost dropped both book and rucksack in shock when she looked to her left and saw Castiel sitting there, looking awkward and like she didn’t quite know why she was there, or what she was supposed to do.

It took her a few moments, but Dee’s brain finally caught on to current events. It seemed she had indeed been watched. And now she felt bad for not looking up sooner. How long had Castiel been sitting there, unsure of what to say, or whether to say anything at all? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Dee shook herself out of her runaway thoughts and told her brain that now was probably a good time to fucking _say something_ already.

“Oh! Cas! Uhm, hi!” Dee tried to smile, but it felt like it turned out more apologetic than friendly. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Castiel squirmed uncomfortably, clutching the books in her hands awkwardly. There was only five or six of them today, and none too scary and advanced-looking. That was a first. (Well, Dee had only met Castiel twice before, so she supposed she might walk around with only a few books all the time, and only carried mountains rarely.) “Hello, Dee,” Castiel said, looking down at her books, sorting them into a need stack while, without looking up again, saying, “uhm, sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Dee was confused. Had she missed something?

“I made you uncomfortable,” said Castiel, matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry. That was never my intention.”

“I—” Dee started, but she was interrupted as a librarian came over to them. It was the grandmotherly one from earlier.

“Hi, I’m sorry, but you have to leave now, dears. We are closing.”

“Oh.” Yes, that was why Dee had looked up in the first place. Duh. She quickly shoved her book in her rucksack and stood up. “Sorry. Come on, Cas.”

Castiel followed her, but as they walked through the door, an infernal beeping noise made them both stop short.

Oh. Of course. The book. Dee had forgotten to actually check it out. She could feel a blush creeping over her face as she walked over to the counter, where the librarian who fancied herself the grandmother of every fucking person in the world was back. “I’m so sorry, I forgot I hadn’t registered this.” She handed her the book and her library card.

“No problem, dear,” the librarian said, holding first the card and then the book in front of the red glowy lights. The machine acknowledged each one with a beep. She handed the book and the card back to Dee. “There you go. Have a wonderful evening!”

Dee managed to bite back a sarcastic reply and smiled instead, very nearly running out the door. Castiel was waiting outside. She had, of course, not forgotten to register any books. For all Dee knew, she hadn’t even borrowed them, but brought them from home or something. She hadn’t looked that closely at them.

“Sorry. That was embarrassing,” Dee laughed awkwardly. “Uh, how are you?”

“Don’t worry, I have seen worse.” Was that one of those almost-smiles? Dee couldn’t tell. It was dark outside now, and the lights didn’t light up nearly as much as they probably should. “I am fine. My studies are going quite well.”

“Oh, good for you!”

They stood in silence for a while, Castiel seemingly out of habit, Dee because she didn’t quite know how to say and how to move forward. It was a somewhat awkward silence, but not as bad as Dee would have thought a situation like this would be.

“It was nice to see you again,” Castiel said after several minutes, shocking Dee out of her silence. Dee hadn’t thought Castiel would be the first to say something. She had, so far, come off as someone who only spoke if you said something to them first. Well, except for that first time, in the library, which Dee still didn’t understand, though she had given it much thought.

“Yeah, same.” Dee remembered her resolution, the reason she had been hanging out in the library the last three weeks in the first place. “Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to do something? Like, hang out?” Man, was that awkward wording. Was Dee so out of practice with friends that she couldn’t even speak to people anymore? “I mean, hang out and play video games or read or something. If you want.”

“Yes, I would like that.” That was definitely an almost-smile. The frown was completely gone, and Dee was pretty sure she could see the corner of Castiel’s mouth twitching upward.

“Nice. It’s getting late and I’m really really tired and have work in the morning so I gotta run, but I’ll be at the library after 5ish all week,” Dee said, smiling.

Castiel nodded, seemingly unsure of how to reply. That was fine though.

“Awesome. See you later, then.” Dee grinned and walked off, waving. When she looked back before turning a corner further down the road, Castiel was still standing at the top of the library stairs, but when she saw Dee looking at her it appear to shake her out of a daze. She walked down the stairs and walked away in the opposite direction.

Dee wondered if Castiel would come back to the library some day this week. Or ever.

* * * * *

Despite low hopes of Castiel turning up any time soon, the next day, Dee was at the library after work. As usual. She had a nasty feeling that even though Castiel had been perfectly nice and friendly and had given Dee the closest thing to a smile Dee had seen from her, she didn’t want to see Dee again. That she probably felt stalked. Or ambushed. Or overwhelmed. Or something.

Oh well. Hope wasn’t something she’d had much of in the past, but things had turned out all right in the end. Dee didn’t need it.

She wasn’t sure if she should sit down in her usual couch, or go to the not-really-family-friendly one by the Science Fiction shelves. She wasn’t looking for Castiel like that today, the… interesting-looking sofa was more comfortable than the one Dee had been using in the main lobby, and even if Castiel were to show up — which Dee doubted — she would probably go to the Science Fiction and Fantasy section anyway.

Yeah. Slightly indecent it might be, but it _was_ the best seating in the whole library.

Probably. Dee hadn’t actually tested all the sofas, or even found out where all of them were, but the aesthetically unpleasing couch was one of the best she had ever sat in.

Dee hadn’t read for long before she was approached by a familiar redhead.

“Hi, Charlie.”

“Heya, Dee!” Charlie was positively beaming. She seemed to be a cheerful person in general, Dee thought, and, while the other librarians recognised her, Charlie was the only one she had really talked to beyond strictly library-related business. “How’s it going? I notice your not sitting in your usual spot, but have crept into my domain. Given up your waiting?”

“No, pretty much the opposite, in fact.” Dee couldn’t help but smile at Charlie’s eagerness and genuine interest in the looking-for-Castiel saga. “I actually met her again yesterday, so I don’t have to look for her anymore. And this couch, while being one of the most hideous pieces of furniture I have ever seen, is a lot more comfortable than the other one.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah. I don’t know why someone would buy something like that for a public library. It was here when I got here. The other librarians keep pretending it doesn’t exist. So eventually I just figured that whoever bought it thought it was comfortable enough to make up for its looks.”

“Well, it definitely is.”

“Yeah, it kinda is,” Charlie said. “But, I’m glad to hear you found your friend! What happened?” She gave Dee a conspiratory look. “Tell me _everything_.”

“There’s not all that much to tell, really. We met, it was pretty awkward, and we agreed that we might hang out sometime. The end.”

“The end,” Charlie repeated, her eyes and smile — her whole face, in fact — lit up with something that was entirely too much like a smug I-know-things-about-the-future-that-you-don’t-know look for Dee’s liking.

“The end,” Dee said again, eyes narrowing suspiciously as Charlie’s face added glee to the aforementioned look.

“Yeah, for now, sure,” Charlie said, still grinning. “But more will be happening, right? This story will have a continuation? And you will update me on how things are going as they happen.” That last was definitely not a question.

“Uhm, sure,” Dee said, almost dumbstruck by Charlie’s ambush of a, Dee supposed, support speech.

“Promise.” Also not a question. It actually sounded a lot more like an order.

“Promise,” Dee confirmed. “If there is more to tell, you’ll know.”

“You sound unsure?”

Dee hesitated. “Well, yeah. _We might hang out some time_ isn’t exactly the same as _let’s be BFFs forever_. For all I know, Cas only agreed to get me to go away.”

“Now, why would you think that?” Charlie’s eyes narrowed, grin gone.

“Dunno? You don’t really know me, but I have baggage. Also, I might have come off as kinda stalkery.” Dee wasn’t sure why she was telling Charlie so much. She usually didn’t talk much about her insecurities, and especially not with virtual strangers. But there was something about Charlie. Talking with her reminded Dee of talking with Sammy, which she didn’t do nearly enough these days. It just wasn’t the same when he was half a world away, no matter how far technology had come with phones and skype and whatnot.

“Hmm.” Charlie put on a mock frown and pretended to scrutinise Dee, like she was trying to see into her soul. “Well. Yes. You carry a lot around with you, but deep down you’re actually a really decent person..” Charlie tilted her head to the side, as if trying to see Dee from a different perspective. Her voice was grave and serious when she spoke. “There is something… I can’t quite catch it… It seems to be — yes, something about a stranger… Oh! Yes! I see it now. This stranger, you’ve only met her a couple of times, but you really like her. And… there’s something else… It looks like — oh, you have the fates on your side! I can see it, the universe really wants you two to be friends! Which means this Cas _does_ like you.” The seriousness melted away, and Charlie grinned proudly, as if she really had looked into Dee’s soul and divined her future.

Dee couldn’t help but huff a laugh. A small one, but still a laugh, full of hope and optimism. “If you say so.” This didn’t seem to convince Charlie, because she opened her mouth, about to prophesy more, Dee suspected. “I believe you! I believe you!” This time Dee’s laugh was louder, more real, more genuine. And slightly panicked. “You have convinced me. Everything will be fine, and I’ll see Cas again soon.”

Charlie grinned, apparently pleased with her successful efforts to cheer Dee up. “Great. Okay, I’m actually supposed to be working, so I have to go. You have fun with the unseemly sofa and your book.”

Dee grinned and went back to her book.

To her surprise, Charlie’s ridiculous form of encouragement had actually worked. She almost believed Castiel would indeed show up there, and probably in not too many days.

Hope. It was a nice feeling.

But hope is only good as long as it’s not followed by disappointment. And Dee knew she couldn’t take much more of _that_ in her life.

* * * * *

Right now, Dee almost wished she’d been disappointed instead. Through the doorway leading to the main lobby of the library, she had spotted a mangy, beige trench coat rushing past, not long after Charlie had left her. It might not be Castiel, but Dee found that to be an unlikely possibility. She felt inexplicably nervous and regretted ever talking to the odd woman with all the books.

 _Maybe she won’t come in here. Then I won’t have to talk to her. Maybe she’s not even here to talk to me. Maybe she’s just here to borrow books in obscure languages again._ Somehow, Dee didn’t quite believe in any of these thoughts. But she tried. Oh, how she tried.

It wasn’t that she didn’t _want_ to talk to Castiel again, or that she’d given up her plans for a friendship. It was just… She wasn’t sure, but this nervousness sure wasn’t helping.

Dee wished she had that bottle of whiskey she kept on her kitchen counter. A sip or two to calm her down. Or maybe the whole bottle. Why hold back when you could drown out all the bad.

Well, that was her usual philosophy when it came to alcohol, though it usually failed to drown her miseries, anxieties and nightmares completely.

It might have worked now, though.

No. Dee was a grown woman. She could fucking well handle this as the grown woman she was. Sure, she hadn’t led a perfect life, but she never cowered in fear, whether it was fear for physical injury, or disappointment, or rejection.

Okay, that last one was, perhaps not completely true. But she never _cowered_. Felt fear, yes, but she always faced it head-on. When she could.

And she wasn’t afraid now. Not exactly.

Just a bit nervous.

In any case, she was not about to get up and follow Castiel around the library to talk to her. No, Cas would have to come to her. So she could just as well focus on her book again and read some.

So Dee went back to her book. She didn’t keep an eye on the time, but she was sure she’d sat there for a while before a shadow fell over the pages of the book and someone coughed awkwardly. She looked up.

“Hello, Dee,” Castiel said, looking down at her.

“Hi, Cas.” Dee smiled. The nervousness was still there — what the hell was it there for in the first place? Dee usually didn’t get nervous about much, especially not what she was doing was just talking to other people — but it had lessened slightly. “No books today?” Dee looked pointedly at Castiel’s arms, which were uncharacteristically book-free.

“No, I —”

“God, Cas. Please sit down. I’m going to get a crick in my neck if I have to keep looking up at you.”

Castiel gave her an odd look, but did sit down beside Dee before continuing. “I just came back to hand in the books I’d borrowed. I am finished with them, and I’d rather have them out of my way.”

Oh. So that was why Castiel was here. There was the disappointment. It crept over Dee like a billion spiders, but she tried — successfully, she thought — to hide it from her face. She wasn’t quite sure what the disappointment was for, because really, this was what she had expected. No one would go to the library, possibly from far away — Dee realised she didn’t know where Castiel lived, which area; for all she knew, she had to travel far to get there — just to meet her. The very thought was ludicrous.

Dee blamed Charlie for getting her hopes up.

Castiel talked on, not noticing that Dee’s head was practically spinning with all the thoughts chasing each other around inside it. “I was looking for a couple of other books, but after much searching, I gave up on it. They are very rare books, so I’m not surprised they don’t have them here, despite proving well-stocked n the past. Although I do think they need to upgrade their computer systems here. The librarian who assisted me said she didn’t find the books in the database, but that a lot of the books aren’t registered there. That seems highly impractical to me. Not to mention plain stupid.”

Dee made a noncommittal sound, more to show that she was interested for Castiel’s sake than because she was actually paying attention. Her thoughts were still dancing around inside her head like there was no tomorrow and she had to think all the thoughts for a whole lifetime in as short a time as possible.

The encouragement had no visible effect on Castiel, and Dee suspected she would have droned on even if Dee had stayed quiet. “The librarian said that this particular collection of books had just been stowed away in a box instead of being added to the database when the systems were upgraded and digitalised, because no one ever looked for any of the books anyway. Which was why he had to look physically to tell me if the books were available.” Castiel sighed. “I suppose I will have to acquire them by other means. Maybe one of the other libraries in the city has them.”

Dee had finally managed to mute her thoughts. They weren’t gone, but they were quiet enough that she could focus on what Castiel was saying. “Can’t you get them online or something? Like, e-books?”

Castiel just looked at her as if she had said something kind of stupid. “No,” she answered eventually. “These books haven’t been made into e-books. They aren’t exactly simple Harry Potter books. It’s no easy matter to digitalise them without losing vital information. Too much information would be lost if the quality of the digitalisation was not superb.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” First Charlie, and now Castiel. Was everyone going to assault her with avalanches of words today?

There was no understanding in Castiel’s eyes, but she changed the subject surprisingly tactfully, even if it seemed like it felt unnatural and awkward to her. “So, which book are you reading?”

“Hmm?” Dee wasn’t quite prepared for the conversation to take this direction. “Oh, the book.” She held it up. “It’s the second book in a series called The Dark Tower. By Stephen King. Seems pretty good so far.”

“I have heard of it, but it is not on my reading list. You must let me know what you think of it when you finish the series. If it sounds interesting I would want to give it a try.”

“Of course.” Dee’s disappointment lessened a bit with Castiel’s words, and were replaced with a sliver of the hope she had felt earlier. It sounded like Castiel wished to keep in touch with her, at least. That was a good sign.

Neither had any more to say, it seemed. The silence stretched on for a while, until it became so awkward Dee considered picking up her book again, no matter how rude that would be.

“Uhm,” Castiel said, and Dee looked up, glad her boredom-versus-rudeness dilemma had now been rendered moot. However, Castiel hesitated, and said nothing more. Several seconds went by.

“Uhm what?” Dee prompted.

Castiel looked away for a second. Then she looked back, her striking eyes staring straight into Dee’s, glittering in the sharp illumination from the fluorescent lighting of the library. “The other day — yesterday, I mean — you said something about, uhm, doing something, like hanging out…?” She trailed off, the question mark very nearly literally hanging in the air above her head.

Dee almost laughed at Castiel’s uncertainty. So she wasn’t the only one. Laughing seemed a bit offensive, however, so she bit it back but let a grin spread over her face. “Yeah. If you want to.”

“I do.” This time, Castiel actually smiled. Dee almost choked on her own spittle in surprise. It was a small and tentative smile, a shy and seldom used smile, and it was only there for a couple of seconds, but it was still a smile.

Dee’s grin broadened. She couldn’t help it. Not when she had actually managed to coax a smile out of this mostly stone-faced woman. “Awesome. So what do you want to do?”

Castiel’s frown came back faster than lightning, stony expression back, a hint of panic in her eyes. She shrugged, looked away for a second before her eyes locked on Dee’s again.

“Right. Uh…” Dee considered it for a moment. “There’s this café I usually go to, to sit and read for a while in a nice environment. We could go there, if you’d like? The owner is really nice. He makes the best coffee in town.”

Castiel’s eyes lit up from within as the panic fled. “That sounds nice.”

“Sweet. It’s not far, shall we go?” She got a slight nod in reply, packed her book in her backpack, and they walked out of the library together.

* * * * *

Benny was as friendly as ever when they arrived at LaFitte’s. No lengthy chat, just an introduction — _Hi, Benny, this is Castiel. Cas, Benny._ The unwritten no-very-personal-conversations rule of their relationship included nosing about new friends and where they’d met and what they were doing.

And, _thank fuck_ , Benny did none of the sly insinuating Charlie seemed so fond of.

But he did give them a slice of pie each, on the house. Cherry, again. It was pretty delicious. Or, if Dee were to be completely honest, _heavenly_ delicious. She almost thought it was better than apple pie. She didn’t know why; it tasted pretty much the same as the last time she had eaten it, when she had established it was pretty damn fantastic but apple pie still held the throne.

The thought that it might be the company this pie had been consumed in never even grazed her mind.

The conversation flowed easily between Dee and Castiel as they sat at the tiny, square table tucked into a Dee’s favourite corner of the café. Dee had expected much more awkwardness, based on their previous interactions and her own past experience with talking to strangers. Even their silences were comfortable and companionable.

And the coffee was perfect, as usual. At least Dee thought so. Castiel had scrunched up her nose and ordered tea instead. White tea. Dee found that incredibly snobbish, for some reason, though she had the grace not to comment on it. She didn’t mind tea — in fact, she often had tea at LaFitte’s (when she wasn’t suffering from crazy sleep deprivation and craved coffee to have normal brain functions in order, that was) — but _white_ tea just seemed so pretentious.

All too soon, it was getting close to 8 pm and Benny had started to drop not-so-subtle hints about _closing time_ and _sleep_ and _cleaning up the mess after the billions of people stamping all over his café_. He was clearly exaggerating; Dee had never seen more than a dozen people at once in the café, and usually there were just three or four other customers in addition to her. How Benny managed to keep business going she had no idea, but he did, so she had no complaints.

After the fourth time he’d walked past with a mop in his hands, grumbling indiscernibly into his beard, Castiel and Dee took the hint and got up to go. Dee hurriedly drained the last dregs of her coffee — her fifth or sixth refill; she wasn’t sure — before shrugging into her jacket.

They stopped just outside the door. Dee turned to see Benny flip over the _closed, sorry_ sign almost before the door had closed behind them, hurrying on to finish cleaning up. He had gotten quite far on that before he’d chased them out, she thought. They had been the only people left in the café, and Benny had been focused on cleaning for at least the last 45 minutes.

Castiel and Dee stood in silence for a few minutes, neither of them looking at the other. Dee felt comfortable, at ease. She wanted to go home and crash on the couch, even if she was pretty sure she’d be unable to sleep, but she didn’t mind standing in the crisp October air with Castiel a little longer.

“So,” Dee said, looking at Castiel, when she thought the silence had dragged on long enough, “how’d you like the café?”

Castiel shook herself out of her silent staring at some far-off point and met her eyes. Dee was struck for a moment by how piercingly blue Castiel’s eyes were as they held her gaze. She found herself almost trapped; unable to look away, even if she wanted to. She didn’t. They were nice eyes. Dee thought she could just stand here and look at them for hours… Except that would be weird. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, where it was scolded by the more sensible parts of her consciousness.

“That is an unfair question,” Castiel said, frowning, as always. “You are friends with the owner.”

“Pfft, am not.” Dee grinned. “Well, I am, but, you know, Benny and I are adults. We can take criticism. If it’s backed up by good arguments, that is.” Her tone was light, joking. She was telling the truth, but if Castiel said anything too bad about Benny or his establishment, she’d probably go looking for someone else to take up the vacant spot as friend in her life.

“Well, the café was nice, but I’m a bit sceptical of the owner,” Castiel said, and Dee felt the heavy weight of disappointment settling in her stomach. Before she could come up with a reply, however, the words got stuck in her mouth as Castiel’s eyes took on a mischievous gleam. “No, Dee, please don’t worry, I was joking. The man gives out free pie. It is very hard to dislike someone who serves you pie, and especially when they insist on giving it for free.”

Dee stood silent for a moment, stunned. Then she started laughing. For a good half minute she laughed, unable to say anything. Castiel just watched her, amused, that small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was less reserved, more open and free, than when she had smiled in the library. It was that smile that eventually had Dee returning to a more composed state.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” she said, grinning broadly with a genuine joy that she could not remember feeling in a long, long time. The happiness went up a couple of notches when Castiel’s smile didn’t disappear like the last one, and her eyes never left Dee’s.


	7. Interlude II

Christmas was a sorry affair for the Winchesters. Sam was used to it, though. He’d never had what Dee referred to as a _proper_ Christmas, whatever that was. He’d heard classmates describe their Christmases, very different from his own.

None of this was due to lack of effort on Dee’s part, though. She didn’t have much money, being only twelve years old, moving around a lot, and not getting any pocket money, and Sam knew that. Dad had never bought a Christmas tree; well, not that Sam could remember, anyway. But Dee, every year without fail, somehow got her hands on a few evergreen boughs which she put in a vase and decorated with crepe paper. She also got Sam a present. Never anything big or expensive; perhaps just a small trinket she had made herself, or a bar of chocolate, or a book she’d probably found in a second-hand bookstore but that was still in good condition.

Dee always wrapped up the present in old newspapers she’d filched from some waiting room, decorated it with stick drawings and coloured stars and balloons, and put it down by the vase before Sam woke up on Christmas Day. Sam was usually up before her, as Dee hated getting up early and always slept as long as she could, but that morning, once a year, she was always awake before him. He only woke when the smell of frying bacon sifted into the bedroom from the little kitchenette in the corner of the living room.

Dad was still out cold from the drinking he’d done on Christmas Eve. He would sleep for hours still, and, if tradition held, he would promptly start drinking again and soon be out of their way.

Dee said Dad missed Mum extra during Christmas. Sam thought that might be true, but he silently wished Dad would remember about his children during the holidays.

All the other children in school celebrated Christmas with their families. Sam never talked about Christmas with them, ashamed that his father was never there to celebrate with him and his sister.

And, previously, his brother. This was the second Christmas after Adam left. Sam missed him more than ever. While they ate breakfast, Dee told him she had called Adam the night before, and that he was in the area. When Dad had woken up, done is grumbling and yelling and drinking and either gone back to bed for the day or out to a bar or something, Dee would go out and meet with Adam.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t come with. I need you to stay here,” Dee said sadly.

Sam felt disappointment like a heavy stone in his stomach, but he knew that Dee wouldn’t leave him behind without a good reason. She wouldn’t tell him why, he knew, so he didn’t ask. “Okay.”

Dee smiled at him. It was a fond smile, but it was sat in a face that looked incredibly sad and much older than a twelve-year-old’s.

* * * * *

Dad was sleeping, having drunk too much too quickly. Dee had gone out to see Adam. Sam sat and waited for her to come home again, reading in his new book. _The Hobbit_ , it was called. He had never heard of it before, but it had a dragon on the cover, so he was quite happy with it. It looked practically new. It had probably cost Dee a lot of money. Sam didn’t know how much money was _a lot_ , but he knew completely new books were expensive, and second-hand stores took more money for newer books.

Sam wouldn’t tell her, because he knew Dee hated talking about feelings, but he really loved his sister. He was pretty sure she knew, though. Sam had tried to put all of his love into the thank-you hug he’d given her after he’d opened the present and found the adventure-promising book hidden inside the old newspaper that forecasted the weather of a random week in November.

Now he was trying to read, listening to Dad’s snoring from the other room. It was hard, though. He wished Dee would come home soon. It was kinda late. A little past 9:30, the gaudy clock hanging on the wall above the fridge told him. Sam knew it wasn’t always safe to walk around downtown that late, especially not if you were just a kid — however old Dee seemed in his eyes, he knew she was still far from grown-up — and especially not if you were a _girl_ kid. Dee knew how to fight and defend herself, though. She rarely did, at home, and Sam felt bad about that, because he knew that was to keep him out of harm’s way, to keep him from becoming the easier target if she proved too unruly.

And she was, hopefully, with Adam. Adam was almost a grown-up. With his 16 years he was practically an adult in Sam’s eyes.

Still, he worried, and waited impatiently for the sound of a lock being opened, Dee walking through the door, tired and weary eyes overshadowed by a fond grin.

An hour later, Sam was even more worried. He wondered how far away he had asked Dee to meet him. Perhaps it was far away, so it took her a while to get there. Or maybe they ran into trouble. Or maybe Dee ran into trouble before she found Adam.

Another hour went by, and still his big sister wasn’t home. Sam wanted nothing more than to go out and look for her, but he knew that was just about the dumbest thing he could do right now. For one thing, he had no idea where Dee had gone. For another, eight-year-olds — well, he was eight and a half, but that was beside the point — shouldn’t be out and about this close to midnight. And if he did go out and look for Dee, and she came home in the meantime, _she_ would be the one worried out of her mind.

Not that Sam was that. Worried out of his mind. But Dee would be, if he wasn’t there when she came back.

She might even be worried enough to try and drag Dad out of his drunken sleep to get his help. Sam shuddered at the thought. Who knew what their father would do then.

Probably look for him, but he was never happy about being woken up, and _especially_ not when he was drunk. Sam knew that Dad was at his most unpredictable when he was drunk, and he didn’t want anything to happen to Dee.

Funny, he thought, how that worried him more — that Dad might do something to Dee, finally go too far — than Dee being out and possibly alone late on Christmas Day.

Sam didn’t know why Dad was like he was. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think most children had dads who were violent. And he couldn’t ask Dee, because Dee pretended nothing was happening. Whether it was because she thought she was protecting Sam, or because she was protecting herself from knowing her brother knew the truth, he had never found out, neither then, nor later.

 _Finally_ , ten minutes past midnight, Sam heard a key turning in the lock. He didn’t run to the door. He wanted to, but both Dee and Dad had told him he shouldn’t do that if someone was trying to get in, even if they had a key. He should hide, they’d both said, separately, and on several occasions, and see who it was before he did anything.

So Sam hid.

“Sammy?” Dee whispered when the door opened.

“Yeah? Did you meet him?” Sam whispered back.

“Come here, Sammy. There’s someone who would like to talk to you.”

Normally, those words would have made him sceptical, but he could hear that Dee was smiling, which comforted him greatly. So, she hadn’t run into any trouble. Probably. And if she had, it hadn’t been too bad, or she wouldn’t have sounded so genuinely happy.

Sam walked slowly over to the door, mindful of the creaky floorboards. Dad was a heavy sleeper at the best of times, and even more so when he’d had a bit to drink. And tonight he had had a bit more than just a bit. Still, better safe than sorry.

Dee closed the door quietly behind him, and met his questioning look with a smile and a gesture that led his attention to a figure standing a little way off, in the parking lot.

“Adam!” Sam couldn’t help it; he was too surprised and excited to whisper. Well, at least he’d avoided actually shouting with glee, like he wanted to. He ran over.

“Hi, kiddo.” Adam pulled him into a hug, and Sam almost felt like crying. _Almost_. He wasn’t a baby, after all. But it had been so long since he’d seen Adam last, and he’d only had the opportunity to talk to him on the phone a couple of times since then. Dad wouldn’t have liked it if he knew Dee was still in touch with Adam, so she only called him when Dad was away. Which he was quite often, when he went to work, but Dee still had to go to school, and afternoon phone call opportunities were rare and only when she already had an excuse to go out, and she used a pay phone while she was away. Sam seldom came with her on those trips out.

As the hug ended, Dee came and stood at Sam’s side, putting her hand on his shoulder, a comforting reassurance. She was grinning as she looked at her older brother, clearly happy and relieved to see him. Sam felt himself grinning broadly as well. Adam looked well.

He had so many questions for his older brother, but it was late and Sam knew Dee wouldn’t let him stay up for much longer, so he held them back. “Merry Christmas, Adam.”

Adam smiled at him. “Merry Christmas, Sam,” he said, and handed Sam something he had been holding behind his back.

A Christmas present. Nicely wrapped up in proper Christmas wrapping and everything. Sam almost laughed with joy — he was very happy for it, but Adam had already given him the only gift Sam could wish for from him, even if he knew Adam would be leaving soon.

Oh, how he had missed his brother.


	8. Chapter 5

  


“Hi, Sammy,” Dee said, smiling down at her laptop. “How’s it going?”

Sam grinned broadly at her from half a world away. If Dee didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he looked taller than the last time they’d spoken. Guiltily, she remembered that had been over a month ago. That was her fault. In the background, behind Sam, Dee could see Jess sitting at a dinner table in the background, working on some papers. “We’re fine, we’re fine. How’s things on the wrong side of the pond?”

“Pretty good.” Dee found that for once, she wasn’t lying. Things _were_ pretty good. Over the last week or so she had met up with Castiel a few times. They’d mostly gone to LaFitte’s again and just sat there together, either reading or talking. Benny often gave them pie or croissants or a slice of the cake of the day, which Dee was very happy about, but he kept giving her _looks_. She couldn’t quite decipher them, but while they weren’t unfriendly or disapproving or anything, she didn’t like it. If Benny had something he wanted to say, he should go ahead and say it. Especially if it wasn’t something bad.

She really wanted to ask about it, but perhaps he was staying quiet because Castiel was there, and she hadn’t gone to the café on her own lately, so she hadn’t asked. If it was _really_ important or something Benny would either take her aside at some point, or call or text her.

Unless it was something he thought crossed their unspoken no-personal-shit rule. In which case Dee thought he should either break the rule, or keep his weird looks to himself. When the opportunity arose next, she would tell him as much.

“Yeah? I’m glad to hear that,” Sam said, throwing a quick look over his shoulder to glance briefly at Jess. “Anything new happening?”

Dee considered telling Sam about her new friend, but that felt very _lonely first grader_ to her, she she decided not to. “Not really. There’s Christmas everywhere even though that’s still weeks off, which is a bit irritating. I just count myself lucky that Jo hasn’t put up mistletoe all over the pub.” A thought hit her, and she added, ominously, “ _yet_.”

Sam laughed. “I can’t imagine Ellen would let her get away with that. At least, not until we get a bit closer to Christmas Day.” He looked at her sternly. “Are you sure that’s all that’s new?”

“What do you mean?” Dee was genuinely confused. Sam sounded like he thought there was something he knew she was supposed to tell him but she refused to do so. She had no idea what that could be.

“Well, it’s just, you seem,” Sam paused, looking over at Jess again while he searched for the right words, “I don’t know, _better_ , somehow. Happier.”

De frowned. “Well, I can’t think of anything. Except I have been sleeping a bit better the last week or so than I’ve done lately.” She shrugged. It was true, though. About a week ago she had started sleeping again. Not much; just an hour, or two if she was lucky, a night. But little sleep was better than no sleep, so she wasn’t complaining.

“Yeah, I guess that could be it.” Sam looked sceptical, but after a few seconds of thought, he glanced over at Jess yet again, and when she met his eyes and gave the slightest of nods, his face had lit up when he turned back to Dee again. “Anyway, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.” Sam looked at Jess again and waited for her to come over.

“Hi, Dee,” Jess said as she sat down on the chair beside Sam, who scooted his chair to his left a bit to make room for her.

“Hi, Jess.” Dee smiled. She hadn’t spoken to Jess for quite some time. She was usually busy when Dee called Sam. This time, though, it seemed her presence was required, so Sam had made sure she was there for this call. “So, what is it you want to talk to me about? Should I be worried?”

The two people on the screen looked at each other with an almost disgustingly loving smile, before looking back at Dee. “No, nothing to worry about,” Jess said. “We just…” She trailed off, looking between Sam and Dee.

Sam looked like he might explode from excitement, but was trying to rein it in. “We’re getting married!” he burst out.

This wasn’t exactly shocking news for Dee. The two had been together for several years now, and had lived together for almost three years. It was clear to anyone with functioning eyes — or ears — that the two were very much in love. Still, she was surprised. This seemed like a very random date for announcing it.

Wait… December. Sam and Jess had gotten together some time in December, six years ago. Today might very well be their anniversary. Dee had no idea what the exact date had been, but she wasn’t sure what day it was today anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Congratulations!” Dee grinned, both smile and congratulations heartfelt. “Do you have a date yet?”

“Yeah, 5th of February,” Sam said, still looking like an overexcited puppy. “Exactly seven years since we met.” He cast another disgustingly I’m-so-in-love look at Jess, who, to her credit, only looked back for a second or two before turning to Dee again.

“Do you think you’ll be able to come?” Jess’s eyes shone hopefully in her joyful face.

Dee instantly felt uncomfortable. “I — I’m not sure. I’ll have to talk to Ellen.” 

“Don’t you think she’ll give you some time off for our wedding?” Sam asked. “We were thinking of inviting her and Jo as well.”

“Yeah, I guess.” That wasn’t what was bothering Dee, though. She was sure Ellen would gladly give her a week off for such an occasion, but Dee didn’t want to go back to the States. She couldn’t go back. Not only was there still a lot of tension — not to mention non-talkativeness — between her and the rest of her family and friends, excluding Sam and Jess, but her fright for flying was pretty serious. Dee had meant for the flight to England back when she came here to be her last. And if she went over the pond for this, she would have to go back as well.

She had barely survived the flight here. How the hell was she supposed to manage not one, but two more flights, and with such short time between them?

“I’ll let you know when I’ve talked to her,” Dee said, hoping her worries didn’t show through her smile.

“Great!” Sam was positively beaming. He hugged Jess and held her closely.

“We would love to have you there,” Jess said, leaning into Sam. “We miss you.” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, me too,” Dee said awkwardly. She did, though. She missed Sam more than she had thought she would. Dee wished they could come and visit her. It had been over three years since she saw Sam in person last. Sammy, the little brother she had spent most of her life watching over, caring for, keeping safe. Until he had gone off to college, her whole life had more or less been about making sure Sam was well.

Dee looked at the time, and gave a start. “Look, sorry, I have to run. I’m really happy for you two.” She hope her smile looked happier than it felt.

Disappointment fell over Sam’s face for a moment, but it quickly lit up again when Jess squeezed his shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. Good luck with Ellen.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

“Talk to you soon!” Sam and Jess said in a curious unison that Dee could only assume came with the rings when you got engaged. She smiled back at them before closing her laptop.

Shit. She was never going to be able to go to the wedding. But how was she going to explain that to Sam?

* * * * *

Dee hadn’t lied. She really was late. She was meeting Castiel again. They were going to the British Museum. Dee didn’t usually care much for museums. Well, she didn’t mind them; she just didn’t find them all that interesting. But Castiel’s face had rivalled the sun in brightness when Dee has said she would come with, and then she had talked excitedly about it for almost an hour. Dee had no idea what most of it was about, but it made Castiel happy, so she was happy to let her ramble on.

After a quick shower, Dee hurried off to the closest bus stop. Normally she would be walking, but she was _really_ late today. If she had realised what the time was, she wouldn’t have answered Sam’s facebook message asking if they could skype, preferably as soon as possible. Or she’d have said sorry, she couldn’t right now, but maybe tonight?

When she got to the museum, she sighed for a moment and wondered how she had gotten herself into this. Museum trips she could take, and it was with Castiel so it would’ve been fine even if she hated museums with the passion of a thousand burning suns, but it was _Saturday_. Saturday meant more people than usual at the museum. Dee hated crowded places. They were nice if you were trying to hide, which was something she’d used to her advantage several times over the years, but when you were just out to relax and have a good time, throngs of people were _hell_.

Those thoughts evaporated the moment she caught sight of Castiel standing by a column in front of the museum. She was wearing her usual tired, almost outworn, beige coat, hand her dark, slightly curly hair was a mess, as always. The frown Dee had thought permanent at first was there, but it softened as Castiel caught sight of Dee and her eyes lit up.

“Hi,” Dee said when she was closed. “Sorry I was late. My brother called, and I didn’t see the time.”

“Hello, Dee,” Castiel said. “It’s fine, I haven’t been waiting long.”

Dee knew Castiel probably didn’t think she had; she was really odd about time, sometimes. Dee was over half an hour late, and Castiel was always precise, so she had probably stood here since they were supposed to meet. But she seemed not to mind, so Dee didn’t comment further on it.

* * * * *

They were at the museum for a little over three hours. Had she been alone, Dee would have rushed through and been tired of it all after half an hour, but Castiel took her time. It was quite all right, Dee thought. Castiel had acted almost as her own personal guide, pointing at everything and talking about what it was, where it was from, its significance, and, impressively often, how the British Museum had acquired it.

Dee wasn’t really interested, but Castiel obviously enjoyed herself, which was enough for Dee. Seeing her usually somewhat reserved friend having a good time and talking like it would be banned tomorrow wasn’t a bad way to spend a Saturday morning. And Castiel had a knack for making it all sound interesting, so they both had a good time, really.

After, they went to LaFitte’s for lunch. Well, _late_ lunch, probably, as it was almost 2 in the afternoon. Benny wasn’t there today. He didn’t always work during weekends. Dee thought he deserved the weekends off; the man was at work for pretty much all of the café’s opening hours during the week. He had a couple of nieces and nephews who took stepped in when needed during the week, and took the weekend shifts. Benny didn’t always manage to stay away. The café was his life, really. Today, however, it seemed his younger relatives had managed to keep him away so he could take a well-earned break.

He’d probably be back at the end of the day, though.

Benny’s absence didn’t really bother Dee, because she saw him a few times a week anyway, except it meant no free goodies. It wasn’t that the people who were working today didn’t like Dee; they knew she was their uncle’s friend, and they talked with her occasionally, but they didn’t offer anything for free. Well, coffee refill, but that was free for everyone, so that didn’t count.

Castiel and Dee sat and talked casually for a while, about the things they’d seen at the museum — Castiel listed her favourite sights there and explained why they were her favourites as well, and Dee was fascinated by the way her eyes shone eagerly as she spoke — about Dee’s work and Castiel’s studying, about other trivial things. Eventually, Dee remembered what she had been bothered about this morning, which had hung over her like a dark, damp storm cloud all day even when she hadn’t thought about it.

“I spoke to Sammy this morning,” Dee said slowly.

“Yes, you said.” Castiel eyes looked at Dee scrutinisingly.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Dee paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “He wanted to tell me —” She stopped again, had to force the next words out. “They — Sam and his girlfriend, Jess, that is — they called to announce that they’re getting married. This January.”

Castiel’s frown deepened. “Isn’t this good news? I was under the impression that you approved of their relationship. You don’t seem happy about this.”

“Well, I am. Happy. That they’re getting married, I mean. It’s just…” Dee sighed. “They invited me to the wedding.”

“Were you not expecting to be invited?” Castiel still looked confused.

Dee shook her head. “I never really considered it, really. I mean, I would expect them to invite me. To be honest, I think I’d be a bit offended if they didn’t, actually.” She looked down at her empty coffee cup, and her next words came out in a low mumble. Castiel had to ask her to repeat herself.

“I can’t go,” Dee said unhappily, still looking down.

“Dee.” Castiel sounded concerned. “ _Dee_ ,” she repeated, and Dee looked up. “Why not? You want to go, but you can’t?”

“Yeah. I can’t go.”

“Why not?” Castiel repeated.

“I…” Dee had never told this to anyone. It surprised her slightly to realise that she had meant to tell Castiel all along, that telling her this was why she had brought the situation up in the first place. Dee didn’t quite know why, because it was something she’d never said to anyone. Not even Sammy. She had even hid it from him. And here she was, about to spill it to someone she’d only known for a couple of months.

It felt safe, though. Somehow. She didn’t think Castiel would laugh at her, or react with scorn or disbelief. She even had a small hope that Castiel might have a solution for the whole thing. But that was a ridiculous notion. No one could fix it. However, Castiel might be able to help her find a way to tell Sam.

“I don’t… I _can’t_ fly. I mean, I did, to get here, but I’m terrified of flying. I’ve never liked it. Sam doesn’t know. That was why I came here, you know. Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back. I’m not sure how I would have survived if it hadn’t been for one of the flight attendants — she talked to me for a lot of the trip, and sometimes she almost managed to make me forget where I was, what we were doing — and I can’t go back, not even for Sammy’s wedding, and —” The words came out in a rush, but she couldn’t help it. Dee was aware that she was almost on the verge of tears. There was no stopping neither tears nor words, when they decided to come.

Fortunately, Castiel interrupted her before she started crying.

“Dee.” Castiel paused to make sure she had Dee’s attention. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you completely sure you can’t go?”

Dee could only nod.

“Oh. Sorry.”

When Dee felt sure her voice would work despite the lump in her throat, she said, “It’s not your fault.”

“I know. I’m still sorry. What are you doing to say to Sam?”

“I… I don’t know.” Despite her best effort, the words were mangled by a sob, and she felt a single tear trickling down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, determined to keep back tears and sobs alike. “I don’t know what I will say. The truth sounds kind of lame. More like an excuse or something. It’s not, though. I really want to go. But I really, really, _really_ dislike flying.”

“I know you want to go. Sam knows that too.” Castiel smiled reassuringly at her. “And it’s not lame. I’m sure Sam would understand.”

Dee fiddled with her empty cup, but looked at Castiel with a desperate, hopeless, desolate expression on her face. “I’m not so sure. I.. I haven’t told you why I came here. To London. I can’t talk about it yet, but there was a fight, and there are quite a few people back in the States I’m not ready to see. And I’m not sure they want to see me in any case. It feels like a bad excuse. Even to me.”

“Ah.”

Dee looked down at the cup her fingers were playing with, unable to meet Castiel’s eyes again, afraid to see the contempt and annoyance she was sure was there.

The silence went on for a long time, and she was afraid Castiel was trying to come up with the best way to tell her what an idiot she was.

“I ran away too, you know,” Castiel said eventually. Her usually stable/free of emotion voice carried a hint of sadness. Dee had never heard anyone sound so small and alone in her life. None of it showed on Castiel’s face. “I don’t know what you left behind, and I’m not going to ask if you don’t want to tell me —” Dee felt a small stab in her heart at the words, and felt bad for not telling her, but she couldn’t talk about that, it was too early, even though it had happened nearly four years ago “— but I left because of my family. I… I had no friends back home. I never went to school, my parents gave me home tutoring. Kept me away from the other children. I think they were afraid I’d start thinking for myself.” Castiel smiled wistfully. “My parents were very religious. You know, the kind of conservative Christians you see on TV, and you think _hah, no way these people are for real_. But my parents were. And I think they thought if I met other children outside of our church community, I might start doing things they didn’t approve of. _Be influenced by the devil_ , they called it. Well, my mother… She wasn’t so bad, really, but she never argued with our father.

“But then they were in a car accident. I was 16. Mum died, and my Father… I don’t know what happened to him, exactly, but he went away shortly after. I haven’t seen him since.”

Dee wasn’t sure what to say, or if she should say anything. Castiel had never told her this much about her personal life before. She knew she had some siblings, and that they were all back in the States and Castiel seldom if ever spoke to them, but little more. Now, though, Castiel was sharing more personal details than she had in all their previous conversations put together. Dee felt almost honoured that Castiel trusted her enough to tell her about it.

She was saved from coming up with a reply when Castiel continued.

“I lived with a couple of my brothers after that. But they’re all a few years older than me, and my second oldest brother is the owner of a company… You may have heard of it. Morning Star.”

Castiel’s brother was the owner of Morning Star? They were huge in the US. There were some nasty rumours surrounding them, but they were well known nation-wide Dee realised Castiel had never told her what her last name was. She was one of the Novaks.

“Everywhere I went, people knew who my brother was. They expected me to be like him. A business person. Devout Christian. Happy to keep up and even improve my family’s reputation. I wasn’t that, though. And I was never allowed to be myself. So I decided to go.

“I left the States when I was 18. Came here, where fewer people recognise my name. I could finally do what I wanted — study. Not business and economy and all the things Lucifer, my brother — yes, I’m aware of the irony of my parents choosing to name their son after the devil, I have no idea what their thoughts and intentions behind that was — wanted me to study, but mythology, which has always been something I’ve loved reading about. I decided to take up religion as well. The two are closely related, you know. And I kind of lost fate after everything my parents said and did.”

Castiel looked at Dee with those sharp and oh-so-blue eyes. “I haven’t spoken with any of my brothers since I left. I’m still in touch with my sister, who left the family long ago — she was sick of living like this, she said, and after she left, my parents disowned her — but we don’t speak often, and she isn’t talking to our brothers either.

“Anyway, my point is, I’m not sure I could go back either, if I had to. My oldest brother, Michael, got married a year ago, and inexplicably invited me, but I never even replied. I couldn’t face any of my brothers. And I’m not scared of flying. I don’t know if I would have been able to come here if I had as much of an aversion to flying as you do, let alone go back for a wedding where I would have to face my family again.”

Dee was on the verge of tears again, but not because she felt bad about being unable to go. She still was, but the tears now were because Castiel not only hadn’t laughed at her, or dismissed her fear as a childish vice she should grow out of. Castiel had shown her understanding, and trusted her with intimate details of her past.

She knew Castiel was uncomfortable with physical contact, but Dee was so moved by her words she couldn’t stop herself from getting up and giving her a hug.

Castiel stiffened, surprised, but when Dee let go it was to see a smile on the other woman’s face.

“Thank you,” Dee said, “for understanding.”

Castiel nodded. “Of course. And I’m sure you’ll think of something to tell Sam.” She hesitated, a mild ghost of a frown replacing the smile on her face. “I think — well, I don’t actually know Sam, but I think, if you told him the truth, he might understand.” When She saw Dee was about to protest, she hurried to continue. “I’m not saying you should. I just think you should consider it. I suspect you don’t actually want to lie to your brother, and especially not about something big like this, so if you don’t think of something good, that could be a backup plan.”

Dee swallowed her protests and nodded. Castiel only meant to help. And… a small part of Dee knew that she was probably right. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But I’d rather come up with something that sounds less like an excuse and more like a legitimate reason not to go.” She considered that for a second. “But I guess it would actually be an excuse, to hide the legitimate reason. Dunno.” She sighed. “You’re right, though. I’ll probably think of something.”

Castiel smiled at her again, and Dee went to get a refill for her coffee. They sat in companionable silence for a while after that, and when conversation started up again, they focused on lighter subjects.


	9. Chapter 6

Ah, fuck. Dee had forgotten to send a Christmas gift to Sam and Jess. It was kind of too late now, but Dee was sure the two would forgive her. She decided she needed to go out and buy it today, and ship it off as soon as possible.

What to buy, though? Books was usually a safe bet. Sam loved reading, Dee knew, and Jess, well… Sam and Jess were one of those perfect couples who pretty much shared all the same interests. It was another reason why it was almost revolting to be in the same room as them, in addition to the love sick glances and all the hugging and all the touching — all very chaste, most of the time, but still an obscene amount of touching.

Yeah. Books was a safe bet. But which books? Dee knew their home was full of books, but most of them were work or school related. They had very few recreational books, which was a shame, Dee thought. She knew they liked the same genres as herself, which did make things a little easier. Still, she wasn’t sure what to get, so she decided to use the Call A Friend option.

An hour later, Dee stood in Waterstones Fantasy department with Castiel, staring at the hundreds of books indecisively.

“…Right. Just a couple of books to choose between. That’s helpful,” Dee complained.

Castiel looked at her oddly. “There are quite a lot of books here, Dee.” Before Dee had the time to think of a reply, she spoke again. “But what _would_ be helpful was knowing what kind of books they like.”

“Yeah. I don’t know, I think they like the same kind of books as I do? I’m not sure, though. It’s been years since I last went to a library with Sam. I haven’t bought him books in ages, which is a bit sad, because it was almost a tradition when we were kids. And I haven’t talked to Jess about books much, but she seems to like pretty much all the things Sam likes, so. But yeah, I think they have similar taste in books as I do.”

“Well, then this shouldn’t be too hard.” Castiel gestured at the shelves. “Do you see anything you would like here?”

Damn. That _did_ simplify things. Dee had been so stressed about being late with the only Christmas present she was sending to the States that she hadn’t even thought about it like that. She attacked the shelves with renewed vigour and determination, looking for anything that caught her eye, whether it was something she had read before or a new book she thought she might like.

Still, there was a lot of books there. Dee recognised quite a few of the titles and authors there. Most of the ones that seemed familiar were books she had read. A few of them, like _The Hobbit_ and the insanely long Wheel of Time series, she knew Sam either owned already or had read before.

There. Dee saw a book that kept drawing her eyes, and finally, the fifth time she read the title, a memory was triggered: handing a book back to a librarian, feeling like she was giving away something very dear to her, and thinking that this book was one she would like to buy one day.

“This one. I’m pretty sure Sam hasn’t read anything by Gaiman before.”

There was a flicker of surprise in Castiel’s expression when when she recognised the book. “ _American Gods_ ,” she said, rather unnecessarily, Dee thought.

“Yeah. I liked it. Quite a lot, actually. And I suspect it might be right up Sam’s alley.” Dee tucked the book in the crook of her arm. “But I need one more, I think. Suggestions?”

“Hmm.” Castiel turned to the shelves and studied them for several minutes, before purposefully walking closer and picking out a book. “This one is good.”

“Terry Pratchett? I’ve never heard of him before, but you’ve done well with the book recommendations so far.” Dee took the book Castiel handed her. “Thanks.”

They didn’t go and pay just yet, but stood and looked at all the books, pointing out their favourites; authors they liked; books they didn’t like; books they meant to read one day; books they thought the other might like. When they had outtalked the Fantasy section, they took the tour of the rest of the store — which was enormous; several stories filled with books of various genres — and talked about their favourite non-Fantasy books. Castiel talked non-stop for almost twenty minutes when they got to non-fiction and she showed Dee all her favourite books, the books she had used for her studies. Dee was captivated by her bright interest, and noted to herself that these moments, when she talked about the things she loved, was when Castiel lowered her guard the most. Her frown was completely gone, smiles came easily, and she gestured excitedly when explaining about Greek gods and Viking traditions and dead religions that had not become mythologies like the [åsatru]. Any and all self-consciousness was forgotten, and Castiel eagerly shared her excitement with Dee, who found it very contagious and felt herself sharing the other woman’s excitement, even though her actual interest in the subject was very close to nil, beyond an appreciation of the great stories myths and religions had given the world.

Eventually, they managed to get out of the bookstore. The two books for Sam and Jess were the only things they had bought, even though Castiel had looked wistfully at a book about Old Norse, and had been so loath to leave it behind that Dee had had to almost literally drag her away from it. But when she had asked why Castiel couldn’t buy it, Castiel had dodged her questions cunningly with an air of stubborn determination. In the end, Dee gave up, sensing Castiel’s unwillingness to speak of the subject. Whichever subject that had been; Dee wasn’t sure.

As they walked away from the store, having spent more than an hour and a half deciding on books for Sam and Jess and showing the other their favourite books, Dee felt an almost overwhelming surge of gratefulness towards the other woman.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“For what?” Castiel said, bewildered.

“For coming with me. I… I feel really bad for having forgotten to get and ship Sam’s Christmas present earlier, and I think maybe I’ve been avoiding it because of the whole wedding thing.” Dee sighed, studying her feet. “That has been hanging over me ever since they told me about it. I can’t stop thinking about it, even when it’s just like a forgotten radio on low volume in the back of my mind. But I managed to keep it out of my thoughts now. Thank you.” She looked up again, meeting Castiel’s eyes, which shone back kindly, full of fondness.

“Of course.” There was a moment of silence between them, in which Dee could hear the unsaid _I’m always here to help you when you need it_ , which she knew Castiel wouldn’t give voice to, both to avoid making her uncomfortable, and because Castiel felt it was an awkward thing to say. Dee also thought that maybe Castiel was unsure of how it would be received. Still, it hung in the air in the lull in their conversation, and it was as evident to Dee as if Castiel had shouted it.

Dee was glad for Castiel’s friendship. It was relatively new, but already she had told Castiel things she’d never told anyone else, not even Sam, who she told almost everything, or Adam, with whom she spoke about the things she couldn’t say to Sam. Adam was her older brother, after all, and he always had a word of advice or comfort for her when she needed it, even after he went to prison. Dee didn’t understand why or how, but Adam held no grudge against her for where he was. It was odd, but she had given up apologising eventually, when it became clear that Adam really did not blame her at all. She still did, though.

Dee felt a bit bad about the silent reassurance of friendship, because she wasn’t sure she would — could — be there for Castiel as much as Castiel was here for her. Not because she didn’t want to. It was just that, well, Dee wasn’t very good at helping others, however much she wished to. And right now, she had too much on her mind with the wedding situation to be of much use to anyone else.

What she didn’t realise was that she did help Castiel a lot just by being her friend. Castiel hadn’t come straight out and said it, but it was quite clear that she didn’t have much of a social life except for Dee. And Dee would be the last one to judge her for that, her own situation being pretty much the same, with the exception of Ellen, Jo and Benny.

Their situation did differ at some points, though; however, Dee wasn’t aware of it, at least not consciously. Because while Dee had her family, even if it was just Sam and Jess she still spoke with, Castiel had had no one before meeting Dee. Sure, she spoke with her sister, if very rarely, but she had no old friends to turn to, having had no friends outside her family due to her parents’ religious overzealousness and fear of the outside world corrupting their children. And whereas Dee would have somewhere to go if she did decide to go back to the States, Castiel’s brothers had pretty much disowned her. Well, apart from her youngest older brother, but he didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with her if he could help it. He was busy with his own things, apparently; though Dee had never managed to coax out of Castiel what these things were. She got the impression that she might not want to know, actually.

“It’s getting kind of late,” Dee said when the silence had gone on for so long that they would soon have to go their separate way to get home. “Uh, you hungry?”

“It has been a while since I ate last, yes,” Castiel said, sounding reserved, waiting to see where Dee was going with this.

“Yeah. I was going to make lasagne when I got home. You could join me, if you like.” Dee smiled tentatively at Castiel.

“You cook?”

“Well, yeah. I have to do _something_ with my time,” Dee said jokingly.

Castiel studied her silently for a moment as they kept walking.

“Only if you want to,” Dee assured her.

The other woman considered this for another moment, before giving a curt nod softened by a slight smile. “Yes, I would like that.”

* * * * *

Neither Castiel nor Dee had been the the other’s home before. Dee felt a bit odd when she realised this. They’d known each other for more or less three months by now, but every time they’d met up it had been somewhere in the city. No wonder, really; there wasn’t much to do at home that they couldn’t do in London. Read? The library, or LaFitte’s. Eat? The were what felt like a billion restaurants within easy reach, though if Dee wanted to save money she always went to the café to see if Benny would give her some freebies, or she ate at the pub for a reduced price. (She hadn’t been to the pub with Castiel either, but she thought that was quite fine. It’s not like the first thing you do when you become friends with someone is bringing them to your workplace. Also, Dee thought Castiel might need some more time before she could meet the family, so to speak. Ellen and Jo could be… Intense? Extreme? Teasing? Sarcastic? Yes, all of those. Especially the last two. And _especially_ the very last one.) Why would they go home to either one of them when it was so much easier to just meet up somewhere in the city?

But having friends over was an important part of friendships. Dee felt really nervous, for some reason. After mulling over it for a while she attributed it to the fact that this was the first time she showed a friend her own place. _Dee’s home_ , not Dee’s family’s home or whichever motel they’d been living in at the time.

Oh, that was another thing. Before moving in with Bobby after Adam was arrested, Dee never had friends over. She had had very few friends at all, really, but had brought none of them home, wherever home had been at the moment. Some living and home situations weren’t well shared. But now Dee had her own home, a place she was proud of, even if it wasn’t the greatest home ever. It was still better than most she had had previously in her life.

And somewhere along the road, Castiel’s opinion had become important to Dee. That was odd. She had never cared much about other people’s opinions of herself, her actions and her possessions, apart from what family members thought — and that included friends who had become family, like Bobby, and, before she moved, Ellen.

What if Castiel thought it was a crap place? Dee knew it was pretty small — just a living room with a connected kitchen; a tiny hallway separated from the kitchen by a flimsy wall; a small bathroom in which a shower, toilet, and sink barely fit; and Dee’s bedroom. It fit her bed and a wardrobe and a small nightstand, but that was about it. 

Still, there was the old picture of Sam, Dee and Adam from some time they visited Bobby years and years and years ago — Sam couldn’t have been more than two years old at the time; the somewhat newer picture of just Sam and Dee, taken shortly after Adam’s imprisonment and Sam and Dee’s move to Bobby; the small family picture standing on top of an old copy of _The Hobbit_ lying on Dee’s nightstand, taken when Sam was just a baby and their mother had still been alive, before Adam had come to live with his father; the couch she had bought herself — second-hand, true, but still a treasured possession Dee was fond of — along with the coffee table and also the kitchen table she had gotten for free that came with two chairs (the set had been old and fragile-looking, but after a little paint all three items looked good as new, or at least well-worn but well-cared for). She was excessively proud of her tableware, which she had found at a garage sale. It looked almost exactly like the set her mother had gotten from her own mother, which had been lost in the fire that had also claimed Dee’s mother’s life. Owning it felt like having something of her mother in her home, which Dee appreciated greatly.

The curtains had been a gift from Ellen. Jo’s housewarming present had been a cactus, and a note saying it was hard to kill and Dee should therefore be able to take care of it.

Hah. As if Dee had ever done anything else but care for other living things. Sammy, Dad (despite everything), Adam (for a time — though that had gone both ways), Bobby, the stray dog Sam had come with one day not long after Bobby took them in.

In fact, the only thing or creature she wasn’t very good at taking care of was herself. She often denied that, but deep inside, she knew it was true. Dee was terrible at making sure she herself was doing well, or even just okay. It was fine, though. The other people she prioritised over herself were more important anyway.

Dee wasn’t the only one who was anxious about this.

“This is the first time I’ve gone to someone else’s home since I moved here,” Castiel admitted quietly as Dee unlocked and opened the door to her apartment for her.

“Really?” Dee said. Castiel nodded. “Oh.” As she swung the door open, Dee put on a mock serious face and made an excessively grand gesture with her free arm. “Right, then. Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself at home.”

Castiel’s lips twitched in a small smile as she stepped across the threshold. “Thank you, Dee.”

“Okay. I’m going to start on dinner right away, if you don’t mind. You can go sit down and read or something, or, if you want to, you can help me. Just, you know, don’t be in the way.”

“I’ll help you.”

Dee didn’t cook all that often, because when you live by yourself and you have only one person to cook for and that person is yourself and you would be quite all right with takeout anyway, it was hard to find the motivation to cook. But the times she did, she made as much as possible from scratch.

If she was going to put in any effort in her meals, she would damn well do it properly.

They spent an enjoyable hour preparing and cooking the food, Dee telling Castiel what she should do, and Castiel helping where she saw it was needed. The conversation flowed freely between them, and while they waited for the dish to finish cooking, they set the table and then sat down to wait. As they sat there, they discussed Dee’s current read, and then the subject somehow morphed into Roman gods, and Castiel pretty much gave a lecture about Roman mythology. She seemed to talk nonstop without even breathing at any point, and taught Dee more than she had ever learned in school about the subject.

The food was consumed in silence, a heartfelt compliment from Castiel on the deliciousness of the meal and Dee’s thanks being the only things said, in addition to normal table talk, such as _pass the salt, if you please_ and _more water?_

After, they did the dishes, Castiel cleaning and Dee drying and putting things back to their normal place, since it was her kitchen and she knew where everything was already.

“Do you always cook your dinner?” Castiel asked as they sat down on the couch to relax for a moment after they’d finished with the dishes.

“No,” Dee said. “Well, I do, sometimes. Mostly I eat dinner at work or get takeout. Cooking just for one isn’t all that fun. I still do it occasionally, like today. Thanks for joining me, by the way. Eating alone gets old quickly.”

Castiel nodded. “It does. I used to cook, back home. Before everything.” She sighed. “My youngest brother loves food and cooking, and he taught me a lot. When I got here, though, cooking kind of lost its appeal. It’s such a hassle to do it every day.”

“Yeah. I cooked for Sammy since we were children. I mean, my older brother helped, but I did most of it. It was an enjoyable task I could get lost in, and stop thinking about everyone else.”

“You have another brother?”

Dee winced. She hadn’t mentioned Adam to Castiel before, and she hadn’t meant to now either. It had just slipped out. “I do. Adam. I don’t like talking about him, though.” She shook her head slightly, trying to shake off the guilt that always followed thoughts of Adam. “Too much history, little of it good.”

“Oh. I see.” Her face remained the same, but Castiel’s eyes flickered with the sympathy of someone who knew how that felt. “Sorry, I understand if you don’t want to answer, but can I ask, where is Adam now?”

“In prison.”

Castiel’s eyes widened slightly for a moment, but she did not press further, only nodded with thanks to Dee for answering and acceptance that Dee did not want to talk about it now. Maybe not ever.

Truth be told, Dee had avoided talking about it as much as possible, even with Sam.

Especially with Sam. His childhood hadn’t exactly been the best. Dee worked actively not to remind him of the bad parts.

She didn’t know why, but she found herself continuing, even though she hadn’t made to elaborate. “It’s not… He’s not really a bad guy. It’s kind of my fault that he is where he is now. I don’t… They thought he killed someone.” Dee had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she was able to continue. “Well, he did, but not out of malice. He was just trying to protect me. And Sam, but mostly me, I think.” Dee closed her eyes. “I don’t talk about this. Sorry. I can’t. It’s too big, too scary.”

“That’s fine, Dee. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to say.” A slight but comforting weight settled on her shoulder, and Dee’s eyes startled open to see Castiel reaching out. It was just the light touch of a hand to her shoulder, but from Castiel, who actively avoided physical contact whenever possible, it meant the world, and Dee found the ache in her chest, the one she had always felt, for as long as she could remember, lifting a little. It was still there, but not as dark, not as frightening and enormous and scary to face.

The touch lasted only a second or two, but when Castiel withdrew her arm, Dee smiled gratefully at her.

She hoped that one day she might be able to tell Castiel about it. Not all. There were things no one should ever know about if they had to, moments that were too personal, or too serious to share with anyone, perhaps even those who had been there and experienced them in person.

But some of it. The important things. Dee had never been the kind to think that talking about something automatically made it better, but it just felt _right_ , that Castiel should know the significant events in her background.


	10. Chapter 7

Christmas Eve was a sorry affair. Dee had the day off. She skyped Sam to apologise about the lateness of her Christmas present to him, promising it was on its way and it would hopefully not be too long until it arrived. Sam told her about their traditional Christmas Eve visit to Adam, giving him a card Sam, Jess and Dee had written together quite a while ago, and a few books as a Christmas present from the three.

After wishing Sam a Merry Christmas and asking him to send her love to Jess, Dee had no more plans for the day. It was pretty sad. At home, she had usually had dinner with family and friends on Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Day it had been just herself, Bobby, Sam, and, the last few years, Jess.

Dee had none of those traditions here. She had no family except for Jo and Ellen — not blood relations, but growing up Ellen had been the closest Dee had to an aunt, and she and Jo definitely counted as family — and, until very recently, no friends apart from Benny, and while they were good friends, Dee and Benny weren’t Christmas dinner good friends.

There was the yearly Christmas party at the pub, though. It was a private party for anyone Ellen, and to some extent Jo, invited specially, always held on Christmas Day. In Dee’s experience, it was usually pretty fun, and some years she had even found someone to go home with after the party, alcohol, party rush and loneliness making her seek out someone even if it was only to share this one night together. It had never been more than one night, really. Which she was fine with, though always wished she had someone to celebrate Christmas with. Not necessarily a partner, but a couple of friends. Or some family, but that was harder to do.

If she hinted about it carefully a couple of times, Ellen and Jo would probably invite her to one of their Christmas dinners, but she didn’t want to impose. The two had other family and friends in London they usually celebrated with. Though they always invited Dee to dinner on New Year’s Eve, and it was just the three of them, unless Jo brought a boyfriend. It was nice, and it was enough for Dee. Jo and Ellen had a social life outside of her, after all.

So tomorrow she was going to the party. Today, however, was emptier than [something empty], sadly. For a moment she considered calling Castiel, but quickly decided against it. Castiel had never mentioned any family or friends here, but surely she had some. Probably she at least had someone she’d met through her studies. Or a boyfriend, for all Dee knew. She thought it would be a bit odd for Castiel to have a boyfriend and never talk about him, but she wouldn’t put it past her, either. Castiel was probably busy today.

And anyway, calling someone you’d only met a couple of months ago in the afternoon on Christmas Eve was pretty desperate. Dee might be feeling a bit alone, but she wasn’t _desperate_. She decided the rest of the day would be spent in front of her laptop, Netflix providing her with old Star Trek episodes, with a bottle of whiskey at her side.

* * * * *

Dee slept late on Christmas morning. When she finally woke up, some time after noon, she got up and had almost gotten into a pair of slacks when she was hit by a heady hangover. How much had she had to drink yesterday? A whole liquor store, it felt like.

Which meant she was probably low on booze now. After putting some clothes on she went to write it down on the grocery list so she wouldn’t forget about it — as if; but it really sucked when you felt like having a glass or two of wine or whiskey or something and finding there was nothing left in the not-so-fancy cabinet in which she stored drinks — but on her way to search for the list she remembered that coffee was a thing. A thing she had. She just had to prepare it, a few buttons on the machine, and she would have something to drink against her awful headache.

She thought about drinking up what little alcohol she had left — she was pretty sure she had a few cans of beer in the fridge — to get rid of the headache instead, but decided it was still a bit too early in the morning for that. Later today, though. After dinner. _Then_ Dee would drink. She was going to a party, after all. It didn’t hurt (well, it _probably_ wouldn’t hurt _much_ ) to consume a little alcohol in preparation. If there was one thing she hated, it was going to parties sober. Too many people. The mass of people and the anxiety that came with it was easier forgotten if she was a little tipsy.

But that was later. Now she should probably have a shower. And… ugh. Brush her teeth. Toothbrushing was definitely an important post on her to-do list. Her mouth tasted as if some particularly nasty bug had crawled up and died in it weeks ago.

Important, yes. But coffee first, Dee thought. She would do nothing more before having had at least one mug of coffee. Probably two. Then she could brush her teeth and take a shower and maybe find some clothes that weren’t more or less pyjamas. And after that there should most definitely be food. Food was good.

There would be food at the party. Not fancy dinner, but probably some sort of buffet. Which meant that by the time she had finished showering, dinner wouldn’t be a bad idea. Dee looked at the time. 1:38 pm. It would probably be closer to 3 by the time she was done with the three items on her current to-do list. Perfect for dinner, especially when you weren’t going to have proper dinner later in the day.

Breakfast schmeakfast. She had meatball leftovers from the other day. If she cared, she might decide to call the meal brunch, but she didn’t and named it dinner instead. Call a spade a spade. It _was_ dinner. Dinner was perfectly acceptable as the first meal of the day. _Especially_ if you woke up with a hangover.

To be honest, Dee was of the opinion that pretty much anything was allowed if you were hungover. And she definitely was. She could have had beer for breakfast and it would have been okay.

And beer had been grain at some point. So it was extra okay. Grain was food, and most people thought of grains as healthy. Win-win-win situation.

Today, though, she was being pretty sensible, she thought, and would have actual food that was still foody instead of breakfast beer.

* * * * *

Okay, coffee might be Dee’s go-to way of lessening the effects of a hangover, but a long, cold shower helped quite a lot as well. And now that her mouth didn’t taste like something she had found deep down in an old pile of trash, she felt considerably better. She had been dreading the party tonight, but after getting freshened up, it didn’t seem like such a daunting undertaking after all. Now it seemed more like a slightly unpleasant task that would probably be a little enjoyable at some point.

Maybe she’d find someone to go home with tonight. It had been way too long since last time. Way way _way_ too long. Like, _months_. And many of them. More than she would admit to anyone, even her self.

A dead love life was fine, acceptable. She could deal with that. A dead sex life, however, was just sad. When had that happened?

She decided to ignore her overactive mind and cook up some food. Dinner. Swedish meatballs. Yum.

She almost didn’t do the dishes, but then remembered that she would probably have a bit to drink tonight as well — nowhere near as much as yesterday, though, she meant to be in full control tonight, just less on edge and a bit cheered up so she could try and enjoy herself. Dee couldn’t do that sober, not if certain individuals in the usual guest ensemble attended the party like every year before. Some of those folks were a damn pain to deal with when a couple of beers had shown you (the way of) placidity. She didn’t want to imagine even for a second having to take those dolts’ idiocy when you were unaffected by any sort of mood enhancer.

Yeah. Coming home drunk or tired — the latter she would be no matter what — to dirty dishes wasn’t bad, really, because at that point she didn’t care about a full sink and would just go to bed in any case. But when Dee woke the next morning, she would be pissed at herself for not taking care of the dishes while she was sober, not exhausted, and sans a hangover. Not that she meant to have a hangover tomorrow, but stranger things had happened before.

Dee didn’t have a lot of dirty dishes anyway. Just from dinner today, and a couple of plates and glasses left over from yesterday. It only took her less than a quarter of an hour before she was finished, as it turned out. And she had cleaned all surfaced in her little kitchen in that time as well.

4:30 pm. Three and a half hours until the party. Fortunately, Dee had books to read.

* * * * *

Before an hour had passed, however, Dee discovered that when loneliness ruled, concentration and will to read left the house pretty quickly. She tried for another few minutes anyway, but when she had been reading the same sentence over and over for more than five minutes without being able to remember even a single word of it she gave up, found the very nearly empty flask of whiskey from last night, and started drinking. There wasn’t much alcohol left in the liquor cabinet, but there was _some_ , and now she felt like pity drinking. And if Dee felt like pity drinking, she fucking well would be.

* * * * *

Dee might have been a bit more vigorous with her pity drinking than she meant to. This was probably not very healthy. It soon became apparent, however, that loneliness couldn’t be magically eradicated by whiskey.

She was sitting completely alone on Christmas Day. And she had no social plans before New Year’s Eve. Well, except for the party tonight, but that didn’t really count. It would be filled by annoying drunk people and a few annoying sober people and pretty much no one she knew apart from Ellen and Jo. And, well, from past experience, most of those strangers would be obnoxious idiots she didn’t want anything to do with.

Most years, she’d just wound up hanging out with Jo by the end of the night. Some years she had found a couple of non-idiots to hang out with.

This year, however, she felt even less like hanging out with idiots than any of the previous years. Alone and lonely and still in a crowd with some more than 50 other people. She spent enough time on her own the rest of the year. Right now, she missed Sammy. If he’d been here, she could at least have done the lame spending-all-her-time-at-the-party-hanging-out-with-her-brother. It was still better than being alone in a corner, though.

Dee felt a stab of jealousy as she thought of Sam, and immediately felt bad for it. But he still had so much she didn’t have — family, friends, a partner. A home in the country he wanted to live in. Not that Dee thought England was bad, it was just that she had grown up in the US, and that was where home had been for the first couple decades of her life. She would build a proper life here, though. Eventually. It would just take her a little more time.

She tied to smother the jealousy, stomp on it until it was dead and then throw it in the trash. But it wouldn’t go away, not completely. And the loneliness was still there. And she was perhaps a little past tipsy by now, judging from the amount she’d drunk from the new bottle of whiskey she had opened just a little while ago.

Which was probably why, ten minutes later, she found herself on the phone, listening to the beeps as she waited for the other person to pick up.

It rang for a long time, and Dee almost forgot what she was doing. She wasn’t 100% certain who she was calling, though there weren’t many options and she could hazard a guess.

Finally, after what felt like maybe ten eternities, someone picked up and the beeping stopped. There was a slight pause, and then a short “Yes?”

Yeah, that was the voice she had been expecting. Not surprising; who else would she call? She’d meet Jo and Ellen later tonight, and Benny was busy with his family, and that was the four friends she had. “Hi? Uh, it’s Dee.”

“Hello, Dee,” Castiel’s calm voice answered.

“Hi,” Dee said again.

“Hi.” Dee could here the scepticism and uncertainty in Castiel’s voice. Right, she should probably say something more. You didn’t just call people up at 6pm on Christmas Day and not tell them why you were calling.

“Hi,” Dee repeated. “Uh, I’m not interrupting, am I? Are you busy?” Her heart felt heavy, and she was torn between wanting to get a _yes_ so she could apologise and hang up and a _no_ so she could keep being awkward and embarrass herself but lessen the loneliness.

There was quiet on the other end for a while, and then Castiel said, “No, it’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything.”

Dee wasn’t sure how true that was. People only paused like that if they were lying, or were doing something that they _wanted_ to be interrupted from, or weren’t busy but didn’t want to talk to the other person.

“Ah, good. I felt a bit bad for calling you. It’s Christmas Day, after all. People are often busy with family and friends on days like this. I wouldn’t want to keep you from anything.”

“You’re not.” There was a slight pause, and then a sigh. “I don’t have much family or friends here, as you know. They’re all back in the States.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I should have remembered.” Dee’s eyes fell on the suspiciously un-full whiskey bottle on the table in front of her. She very much blamed it for her forgetfulness, and was quite irritated with herself for drinking so much of it — or anything at all, really. She had only meant to drink a couple of beers before the party, after all. “Uh, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Dee. I hope you are as well.”

“Yes, yes I am,” Dee lied. She hadn’t been _fine_ for years, truth be told. But that wasn’t Castiel’s fault, and the _how are you doing_ question wasn’t really a sign of interest. It was just an idiotic form of politeness Dee thought was pretty ridiculous, really. Still, she found herself doing so quite often anyway.

“Good.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I just called cuz there’s this party tonight, and I was wondering if you might wanna come with?” Oh, so _that_ was why she had called Castiel. Ah. Logical. When you’re lonely you call your best friend. Though Dee wasn’t sure she’d call Castiel her best friend in the sense in which _best friend_ is kind of a title, more in that Castiel was the friend Dee was closest to. But then, she only had two to choose between; Cas, and Benny.

And now, in her loneliness, she had invited Castiel to the party tonight. God. Bad move, Winchester. Bad move. Not only was that incredibly awkward, but, in the — in Dee’s estimation — unlikely event that Castiel, who wasn’t too fond of social situation and especially not if there were a lot of people involved, something was going to go south, she just knew it. Nothing could ever be just good in her life. If Castiel came with her, Dee wouldn’t feel so lonely, which was a good thing, but whenever a good thing happened to her, a bad thing always followed within quick succession.

“A party?” Castiel asked, scepticism back and very evident.

“Yeah. It’s a yearly thing at the pub I work in.” Dee struggled to gather her thoughts properly. They didn’t seem to want to come in quite the right order. “It’s not a big party or anything. It’s a smallish private thing; the pub is closed for people without invitations. Every year Ellen, my boss, invites a few of her friends and family and some of our most loyal patrons to a party on Christmas Day. There’s, ah,” Dee paused for s second, trying to find the right words, “it’s usually quite fun, even though I don’t know many of the other guests and most of them are annoying idiots who drink too much, but I still go every year.” Oh, great. That sounded really tempting. Dee had thought the chances of Castiel saying yes to go to the party had been pretty small, but after that they had to have gone down to somewhere below zero. _Hey, there’s this party and it’s full of drunken annoying idiots_ wasn’t exactly the best sales pitch ever.

“A party. At the pub.” The scepticism had not lessened, at least. Dee could practically _hear_ Castiel’s frown over the phone.

“Mhm.” Ah, the eloquence of the slightly drunk. There was nothing like it. Especially when it came from your own mouth. Jeez. She’d need to sober up a bit before going to that party, regardless of whether she brought company or not.

“Right.” Castiel was silent for the longest of time. Or, at least, that was what it felt like to Dee. She was about ask if Castiel was still there when the other woman continued talking. “A party. I don’t have an invitation, though.”

…what? Either that was the classic, stalling I-don’t-want-to-do-this-thing-you’re-asking-me-to-but-I’m-going-to-pretend-I-do-but-can’t-for-various-lame-reasons, or Castiel was actually considering it. It took Dee a couple of seconds to find her voice.

“That’s fine,” she said. “Uh, I mean, every guest is allowed to bring another person. Like, a plus one. And anyway, even if that hadn’t been a thing, Ellen would probably let me bring as many people as I want to. I think.”

“Okay.”

Dee waited for Castiel to continue, to give an answer. She didn’t. The silence became slightly awkward, as if they were both waiting for the other to say something.

After the silence had stretched between them for a couple of minutes, Dee replayed the last bit of the conversation in her head.

“…okay what?” she said, confused.

“I’ll go.”

“You will?” The surprise in her voice startled even Dee.

“Yes.”

All this was making Dee feel strangely elated. Elation quickly turned to sceptical suspicion, however. “Are you sure?” Okay, a bit too much of her scepticism was showing through her voice. Better fix that. She didn’t want Castiel to misunderstand it. “I mean, there will be lots of people there. Like, not like _many_ lots, not like it is on full nights at the pub, but it will definitely be a goodly sized crowd, and I don’t think you know anyone there, and —”

“Dee.” Castiel sounded a bit annoyed. Dee couldn’t figure out why, though it seemed to be just out of reach.

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Dee thought about lying. She did want Castiel there, but she also thought it would be a bad idea, because something _would_ go wrong, it always did, and, judging by Dee’s current drunkenness, it might go catastrophically wrong in the way things only could when you had too much to drink and were in a negative thought space beforehand. “Yeah, I do. I don’t know many there either, and as I said most of the folks I didn’t know the previous years were annoying drunken idiots. Annoying drunken idiots aren’t fun company. You’re much better company than all of them put together.” There was that beautiful drunken eloquence again. Dee’s suspicion that she might regret this in the morning strengthened.

“Then I will go.” Castiel said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if no one ever said no to something like this if the other person wanted them to come. But then, Dee suspected that might actually be unimaginably for Castiel. She really was a good friend. “When is it?”

“Oh. Awesome. Uh, eightish?” Dee was still a bit shocked that Castiel had actually said yes. What the hell. Though it did mean Dee could scrap the feeling of loneliness for the night.

“Okay. I’ll be there 8, then. Bye, Dee.” Castiel hung up before Dee could say anything more.

“…bye?” she said to the silent phone in her hand. Right. 8.

If Dee were to be anything resembling entertaining — in a good way; Drunken Dee could probably do entertaining very well but hardly in a good way — and if she were to avoid things going to hell, she should probably sober up a bit.

No, scratch that. A lot. Water, a cold shower and copious amounts of coffee might do the trick.


	11. Chapter 8

Dee had sobered up quickly when she realised what she had done.

This was _not_ going to go well.

Why would she invite Castiel to a party full of drunk idiots and loud music and very much alcohol. She had promised herself she wouldn’t drink more than what would make her tipsy, but given the situation and the place she probably would anyway.

Drunk idiots, loud music, alcohol, and probably a drunk Dee. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

She decided to take another shower. After, she looked through her wardrobe for clothes, but in the end settled on her usual weekday attire: jeans and a shirt. Yeah, it was Christmas, and a lot of the guests would probably dress nicely in dresses and suits and shit, but Dee hated dresses and didn’t like wearing suits, and anyway she felt more herself if she was wearing normal clothes. She suspected she might need every bit of anything that made her feel like herself. She had a tendency to do less fortunate things she very much regretted the next day when she pretended to be different.

Anyway, she was pretty sure Castiel would be wearing the same clothes she always did as well, and she’d probably not even recognise Dee if she dressed up. No one was less suited to wear fancy dresses than Dee. Something always happened to them. She, or some random person walking past her, would spill red wine on it, or she’d tear it on something, or the fit would be just slightly off so she’d spend the whole night adjusting it every five minutes to avoid indecency.

Not to mention having to mind how she was sitting. Ugh. No thanks.

Dressed, and with hair dried and arranged into a bun to be sure she was more or less presentable, Dee drank another mug of coffee. That was probably also a bad idea. Her hands were getting jittery. She had no idea how much coffee she had had today, but it had to be way more than the recommended daily dose. Damn it. She didn’t even really like coffee. Well, not except the one Benny made, of course. Normal non-Benny-made coffee was something she drank to wake up in the morning, or to keep going in her insomnia periods.

And still she had half an hour until she had to leave to get to the pub around eight. Dee was too irritated with herself and nervous about what would go wrong tonight — not might, because something _would_ go wrong, and she knew it; The question was only _how_ wrong whatever it was would be, and how hard it would be to fix it, if that was possible at all — to read or clean or anything sensible. In the end, she settled for looking through her wardrobe and seeing if anything was out of order, or if there were any clothes that were actually dirty but that she had forgotten to put in the laundry basket.

Mostly her wardrobe was pretty orderly. Perhaps neat, even. There were a few of clothes that needed folding, and a shirt that went into the laundry basket, but apart from that, everything was in the right place and she was out of things to do again.

Dee looked at the time. Holy fuck, how could that possibly have taken only five minutes? She still had almost 25 minutes to kill. Sigh.

Oh, the drawers. Not the ones that were in the main compartment of the wardrobe, which was like an okay sized wardrobe-closet with one part wiry drawers above one another, easy to see through and find what you were looking for, and one part hangers where Dee kept her shirts. No, the other drawers. The ones that were beneath the main compartment. She kept various knickknacks in one of them — a couple of safety reflectors, packs of unused batteries, a flashlight, and such little things — and in another, a much-treasured scrapbook Sam had made her when he was little. She organised the chaos in the first drawer somewhat, and looked fondly for a few moments at the book in the other.

The bottom drawer was used only for out-of-season clothes, she knew. She always kept it tidy, simply because there wasn’t much to put in it, so it was unnecessary to check. Still, although she didn’t know what drove her to do so, she found herself opening it.

And discovered to her surprise that it wasn’t empty after all.

Dee had completely forgotten about the hat she had picked up from the ground after bumping into some random person that July day three years ago, the day she saw Sam for the first time in months — and the last time in years. The old but fine military cap had lain untouched in the drawer since she hurriedly put it there that day — temporarily. She had meant to try and find the owner in somehow, through newspaper advertisements or something. But she had forgotten all about it the second she closed the drawer and left the room to talk with her little brother.

What was she going to do with it? It was probably too late to find the owner now; they had probably stopped looking for it. Three years had passed, after all. At least, Dee would have given up long ago.

The hat reminded her about Sam’s visit, and she thought, sadly, that she hadn’t hugged her little brother in over three years. Or reached up — that boy was ridiculously tall, seriously — to ruffle his hair, which would annoy Sam, but in a fond way. Or cooked him breakfast.

Or talked to him without hundreds and hundreds[?] of miles between them.

Well, bummer. Way to put a dampener on the party mood. Not that Dee had been in much of a party mood in the first place, but it was even worse now. She missed her brother more acutely than ever.

There was nothing she could do about it, though. She put the hat back and slammed the drawer shut angrily before stalking out of the bedroom.

Though one good thing had come out of this unexpected wardrobe encounter: time had passed, and it was time to leave for the party.

* * * * *

Dee was greeted by Pete, the bouncer, when she arrived at the pub. She paused for some friendly chitchat, and was delighted to hear that his five-year-old had learned to read.

“Aww, that is adorable!” Dee grinned. “She’s growing up quickly, Pete.”

“Yeah, she is.” He beamed, outshining all the Christmas lights that were all around them. “My little baby girl.” He was so proud it was practically dripping from his voice.

“I might have to buy her a book to celebrate,” Dee said. “Ah, sorry, I need to go see if I find my friend.”

“Of course,” Pete said, opening the door for her. “Have a good night, Dee.”

Dee looked for Castiel inside, but a quick glance around revealed no familiar frowning face, so she went outside again to wait for her there. Castiel wasn’t too fond of crowded places anyway, so it was probably easier for her to find Dee outside anyway. And it wasn’t even eight yet, so she couldn’t expect Castiel to be here already.

Dee stood at a corner a little ways away from the entrance to the pub, and waited. Again, she started worrying about what could go wrong tonight, and how to solve the situation with Sam’s wedding. She really wanted to go, but she also very much did not want to go — both because of the method of travel she would have to choose, and because there would be others there that she absolutely did not look forward to seeing.

Sadly, Bobby was one of them. Dee missed him, a lot, but she just couldn’t forgive him. And, it seemed, Bobby felt that _she_ needed forgiving, but that she didn’t deserve it. Not before she had apologised, Sam had told her not long after he’d been here to see her, annoyed that he had to be their go-between.

Dee snorted. That was _not_ gonna happen any time soon. Or ever. She was not in the wrong here. Perhaps she could have handled the situation, the fight, better, but she was not the problem in this case, however much she blamed herself for so many other things. This one she was sure of. That didn’t help much though, Dee still felt bad about so many other things.

Fortunately, she did not have to swim around in the murky waters that was/were her thoughts for long. Eight o’clock on the dot, she saw a familiar figure walking towards her.

“Hello, Dee,” Castiel said in her usual serious voice when she was close.

“Hi, Cas,” Dee grinned. Looking at the other woman, she was happy that her guess about the clothes situation hadn’t been far off. Castiel was dressed in the same nice but unremarkable formal-looking trousers and blouse, with her trench coat thrown over it, not even buttoned down despite the chill of the night.

Well, the clothes themselves might be unremarkable, but they suited her well, the combined impression pretty striking.

The only thing that was different tonight was Castiel’s hair. While it was nowhere near neat or tidy, some effort put in to try and tame its customary crow’s nest-likeness was evident. It wasn’t successful, not exactly; but Dee thought it looked good. Though she preferred the mess that was Castiel’s hair the rest of the time.

“Thanks for coming,” Dee said, suddenly very serious for a moment. “I know it was short notice and I know this probably isn’t quite your thing, but I appreciate it very much. These parties can be fun, but some actual intellectual company is much preferred to the annoying dolts that are guaranteed to be there.”

“Of course,” Castiel said, still sounding serious — which, Dee had learned, was the default mode for her voice — and frown still in place, but her face softened slightly, and Dee’s heart warmed. “It may not be my usual venue, but your company is always enjoyable. And I had no plans for the evening.”

“Really? On Christmas Day?” Dee said, but then caught herself. “Okay, I can’t really talk there. I have no plans for anything this Christmas except for the party tonight. I guess if I can be planless, you can be too.” She smiled, happy to see a friendly face that had lit up when its owner saw Dee and knowing this particular friendly face would be close tonight. No holiday loneliness this late Christmas night.

Hopefully, that was. Of course, Castiel could get tired and leave any time, and Dee would understand it. Or something could go wrong and either Dee or Castiel or both would bail (out), either together or separately.

“Yes, well, I don’t exactly have a lot of friends or family here,” Castiel said. “Just like you, except you have Ellen, Jo and Benny.”

“You have me,” Dee said, so seriously even her smile had gone.

Castiel’s face lit up at that. “I do. Thank you,” she said, with one of her small but genuine smiles, eyes glittering in the Christmas lights outside the pub.

“You’re welcome, though I’m pretty sure tonight you’re the one deserving thanks,” Dee said, returning the smile with a wide one of her own. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

Castiel nodded, and they went into the pub, Dee waving quickly at [someone] as they walked past him.

* * * * *

The pub wasn’t as loud and rowdy as Dee knew it would become later that night. The party had only just started, and there were only a handful of guests sitting or standing in small groups around the large room. Looking around, Dee thought that Ellen must have given Jo free reins for the Christmas decorating this year. There were lights and garlands and mistletoe and evergreen branches fucking _everywhere_. It was very Christmasy, though. Appropriate, probably, this being a Christmas party and all.

Dee and Castiel made for a table in the corner furthest away from the door, Dee waving to Ellen, who was standing behind the bar, as they walked past. Ellen nodded back, busy fixing drinks for the couple she was talking to.

This was Dee’s favourite corner of the pub, where she always sat, if it was free. It was angled so she could keep an eye on the entrance, see everyone going in or out if she paid attention, and while it was far away from the main door, it was right by the door going to the staff room and the back exit.

She knew it was kind of sad and pathetic that these were the most important things to her when finding somewhere to sit, but years of having to look over your shoulder, years of feeling unsafe even in what was supposed to be your home, had a tendency to do that to you.

Dee slid onto the cushioned bench that made up her favourite corner. Castiel sat down at the other bench that merged with Dee’s in the corner. It meant she was not sitting directly across the table from Dee, but that they were facing each other at an angle, making it easy to talk while still being able to keep an eye on the rest of the pub.

It also meant they were sitting closer.

“I’m going to go say hello to Ellen and get something to drink,” Dee said, getting up again after shrugging out of her jacket. “Do you want anything?”

Castiel’s eyes flickered around the room, nervously. Then she looked up at Dee, meeting her eyes. “Uhm, water, maybe? No, perhaps some soda. Sprite or something similar.” Her eyes wandered around the room again as if to catalogue all the other people there, before she looked up again, nodding, more to herself than to Dee, like she had come to a decision. “Yes, Sprite would be nice, if you please.”

“Coming right up,” Dee said with a smile before turning and walking to the bar.

The couple Ellen had been talking to left to find somewhere to sit just as Dee reached the counter.

“Hi, Dee, how’s it going? Who’s your friend?” Ellen’s eyebrows waggled suggestively at the last part, and Dee rolled her eyes at her.

“I’m fine, Merry Christmas, and that’s Castiel. My _friend_ ,” Dee replied, pointedly pronouncing the last word clearly and slightly slower than normal. God, Ellen got the most ridiculous ideas some times. Any time Dee introduced her to a new person, especially if the person was even slightly good-looking (which, Dee had to say, was selling Cas very short), Ellen seemed to be imagining wedding bells and churches and Dee in a white dress — hah — in the very near future.

Or at least a couple of good lays. Ellen had told her as much on Dee’s last birthday, in those exact words, nudging Dee hard in the side with an elbow.

Dee suppressed the memory with a shudder. That was _not_ the kind of words she wanted to hear from Ellen, who was pretty much her aunt.

“Oh, so _that’s_ the famous Castiel, who have I not heard much about but who you seem to be spending every spare moment with,” Ellen said sternly. She looked over at Castiel, in a way Dee could only describe as _leering_ despite Dee’s, in her own opinion, very clear words. “Yeah, she looks like just you type.” She looked back at Dee with a mischievous grin. “You must introduce me to her.”

Dee rolled her eyes again. “ _Friend_ , Ellen. Please don’t ruin this by trying to set me up with her.” She meant the words, but the tone was not completely serious, a little playful as well. This was another variant of a conversation they had had countless times.

“Sure, sure,” Ellen said, but her eyes still glinted with malicious intent. Dee didn’t trust her for a second.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Dee said, very much interested in changing the subject, or at least the nature, of the conversation, “I was going to get us drinks, if you’re not too busy speculating in my love life.”

“Oh, I’m always speculating, Dee. Especially when you have found someone who manages to drag you to a museum, for fuck’s sake. I thought only Sam was capable of that.” Ellen smiled, but put away the joking and turned to business. “So, what do you want?”

“A glass of Sprite for Cas, and for me…” Dee thought for a moment, wondering if she should do as Castiel and get something non-alcoholic, or if she should choose something to settle the nerves that were still fluttering around in her stomach. “I think I’d like some brandy,” she finally decided, foregoing relative soberness for nerve-settling, familiar alcohol.

Ellen gave her a Look, but busied herself preparing the requested drinks.

“They’re on the house,” she said as she slammed them on the countertop, miraculously not spilling a drop, even from Castiel’s completely full soda glass. “On one condition.”

Dee looked at her sceptically. “And what would that condition be?” she asked carefully.

“That I get to serve them personally. I want to meet this mysterious lady who is taking up your time these days.”

Dee barely kept herself from rolling her eyes again, but nodded. “Sure. Just, you know, don’t scare her away.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Ellen promised, but her delighted, sly smile told a different story.

Dee led the way to the table and gestured at the other two women as she introduced them to each other. “Cas, this is Ellen, an old —” Ellen scowled at her; she didn’t like that word in correlation to herself, “— friend of the family and my boss. Ellen, Castiel.”

The scowl was gone as soon as Ellen’s eyes travelled away from Dee, and her face turned into a big, friendly grin as she shook Castiel’s hand. “Hi, Castiel. Nice to finally meet you.” Castiel looked over at Dee with an unreadable expression at those words, but seemed unfazed as their hands shook, nodding in a friendly way. Though it might be that Dee was the only one seeing the friendliness in that nod; Castiel’s frown was in place as always.

“Hello, Ellen. Nice to meet you too. Dee seems to think highly of you.”

Dee looked between the two, waiting for Ellen to say something inappropriate, but she only smiled and said, “I gotta go back to the bar, but you two have a lovely night, and I hope I’ll catch you later. Merry Christmas.”

“She seems nice,” Castiel commented after Ellen had left.

“Yeah, she does. _Seems_ nice,” Dee said, suspicious. Ellen was clearly planning something. She would probably be plotting Dee’s demise — at least figuratively — all night. “She is up to something.”

“You think so?” Castiel said, curious but doubtful.

“Yeah, definitely. I don’t know what yet, but it’s something bad for me. You’ll be fine.” Dee was deep in thought. “Probably,” she added after a second of consideration. “But in any case you’ll get away much lighter than I will.”

Castiel studied her for a minute. “It seems you are close. She sounds like family.”

Dee looked at her, startled out of her thought at the astute observation. “Yeah, well, she kind of is. In many ways she seems more like a close aunt than a friend. And her daughter, Jo — I hope you’ll be able to meet her some time tonight, she’s pretty cool — was like our cousin when we grew up, before they moved here.”

“Oh. Was that why you chose to come here when you did?”

Dee looked down for a moment. “Well, mostly, I just wanted to get far, far, far away.” She looked up and met Castiel’s eyes again. “But I guess that was part of the reason, yeah. It’s a lot easier to be new somewhere when you already know someone there. She helped me find an apartment — the one I’m still living in — and gave me a job and everything. Things would not have gone as well as they did if I hadn’t had Ellen’s help.” That had been hard to accept at the time; Dee didn’t like getting help from others, and especially then, from someone who was basically family when family was exactly what she was running away from. It had worked out well, though. She had fallen in love with her apartment, and quite enjoyed her job. And it had been great to see Ellen and Jo again.

“I’m glad you had her help.” Castiel smiled a little, her frown slowly melting away as they spoke. “I didn’t have anyone when I got here, but the university helped me a bit in the beginning, which was invaluable. That was many years ago, though. My situation is better now, for the most part.”

“For the most part?” Dee was curious. Castiel didn’t always volunteer much information. Well, except when the subject was mythology or Tolkien or something else she was interested in. But personal information? That came rarely, and little at a time. Dee sucked up every little dribble/drop she could get.

“Yes.” Castiel looked away, breaking eye contact and making it clear that was something she did not want to discuss.

Dee let it lie. Pressuring Castiel into anything was always a bad idea. She spooked easily, though probably more out of annoyance than because she felt small and inferior.

Yeah. Cas might be weird and a bit of a loner and not the greatest at social interaction, but she was not easily intimidated. Dee admired that in her. She wondered if her childhood would have been different if she had been more like Castiel.

“So, how’s your Christmas been so far?” Maybe not the best of subjects, but Dee figured it was better than whatever Castiel seemed intent on avoiding. And anyway, they were on quite similar footing here, really.

“Fine. I have been able to do much reading.”

“That’s great, but I meant, have you done anything, I dunno, like holiday-y? Christmasy? Don’t you have any Christmas traditions?”

Castiel was looking at her again, eyes sincere and serious. “Not really.” She hesitated, clearly not sure if she wanted to continue. Eventually, she did. “I think I kind of overdosed on Christmas at home. My parents were never more intense they were during Christmas.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise.”

“No, it’s fine. I just… I’m kind of tired of Christmas.” Castiel seemed to see something in Dee’s face and hurriedly added, “It’s better now, though. I’ve had several more or less Christmas-free years now. I needed it. I’m not sure I’m ready to start up any big traditions yet, but maybe some of the small stuff. Unfortunately, most of the Christmas traditions I know involve family, and I don’t really have any family. Not any more.”

“You have me,” Dee almost said, but she stopped herself in time. She wasn’t sure why she was so hesitant to tell Castiel how important she was to her, how she had become an almost indispensable part of Dee’s life. Perhaps it was just that Dee had a hard time talking about feelings. She knew she did, even if she rarely admitted it, even to herself. The only person she had ever been completely honest with in this area was Sammy.

And now she didn’t even have Sam, not really. He was half a world away, with his girlfr — no, fiancée — living his own life, so far away from her.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’re in kind of in the same boat,” Dee said instead of her very near mishap. “I mean, I have Ellen and Jo, but apart from them, my family is more or less gone from my life.”

Castiel eyed her sceptically. “What about Sam?”

Dee sighed and shook her head slowly. This wasn’t really something she wanted to talk about, but it was _Cas_. She had found she had a hard time not answering Castiel’s questions, and honestly, too. “No, he’s growing up. Getting his own life. And he’s so far away. I talk to him on skype regularly, but it’s not the same.”

“Well, he did invite you to his wedding.”

At those words, an unwelcome silence settled itself between them. It lasted for way too long before Castiel broke it, looking down into her Sprite apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I should have realised you wouldn’t want to talk about that.”

Dee waved her hand vaguely. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but she didn’t want Castiel to feel bad. She had only tried to help her with that problem, taking Dee seriously when she told her about it without even lifting an eyebrow mockingly. Most people would have ridiculed Dee if she told them something like that, that she was scared of flying and didn’t want to attend her own brother’s wedding because of it. “It’s not my favourite subject, but I don’t mind talking about it.” Blatant lie. But this kind, small white lies, was the only kind she could ever bring herself to tell Castiel.

“I understand. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but have you made a decision there yet?” Castiel’s gaze wandered questioningly over Dee’s face, looking for any trace of an answer.

Dee sighed. She did mind, but it was fine. It really was. More and more, she was realising that Castiel had become a best friend — not only as in the best friend she had, but also in the way that was more of a title than a friendship description. At any rate, Castiel had become a close friend. Someone she felt she could tell anything.

Well, almost anything. There were some things in her past Dee would never tell anyone, ever.

She sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to think of any way to say I can’t come, and Sam isn’t saying anything, but I know he wants me to say if I’m coming or not.” Feeling dejected, she put her face in her hands, leaning her elbows on the table. “I… I think maybe I have to go. There are people there I don’t feel like seeing again, not now, maybe not ever, and I really really really don’t want to sit for that long on a plane, or at all, if I can help it. But I don’t think I can say no. It’s _Sammy’s wedding_. My baby brother is getting married. I’m not sure I can not go without hating myself for it for the rest of my life.” She looked up at Castiel, hands dropping almost lifelessly to the table, feeling the despair radiating from her eyes but not caring at all. “Jess seems to be a great match for Sam. I really think they can stay together for the rest of their lives. I think they will. And that, somehow, would make it even worse if I wasn’t there when they got married.”

Dee almost jumped out of her skin when a hand covered one of hers, a comforting warmth pushing away the oncoming panic attack a little. Just a little, but a little was all she needed. “You will find a solution.” Castiel’s voice was utter conviction, and Dee found herself almost believing it. “Even if you end up going and struggle with the travel there, you can do it. I know it.”

Dee smiled gratefully, realising that there were tears in her eyes, obscuring her sight and making Castiel, leaning close across the corner of the table between them, slightly blurry and distorted, like a figure in a funhouse mirror.

They sat like that, Castiel’s hand on Dee’s anchoring her to reality, to sanity, dragging her back to calmness.

Dee wasn’t sure how long the moment lasted — probably a while, judging by the amount of people that had seemingly cropped up suddenly — when Castiel finally broke it, removing her hand to take up her soda and lowering her eyes to watch the drink as she brought it to her mouth and took a sip.

Dee picked up her own drink and emptied it. Too quickly, she knew. This was the thing she was not going to do tonight. She was going to drink moderately and be reasonably clearheaded while hanging with Castiel.

She stood up. “I’m getting a refill. Want anything? I think they’ll be serving food shortly.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Castiel nodded down at her still half-full glass.

“Right. Be back in a moment.”

Ellen looked at her strangely when she got to the bar, but she seemed to sense some of Dee’s mood and didn’t say anything about it, only gave her another glass of brandy, this one slightly fuller than the last. Dee nodded her thanks and went back to her table.

Castiel sat still, staring straight ahead, clearly deep in thought. She didn’t react when Dee sat down right next to her instead of where she had sat earlier. Dee was happy to sit in silence.

After a good ten minutes, Castiel started slightly, finally coming back to reality from whichever planet in her own mind she had been at. She looked curiously at Dee, sitting only a few inches away, but then looked straight ahead again, this time without the glazed eyes and lost expression.

Neither felt like talking, and nothing was awkward, so they kept sitting there, content to just be in each other’s company, occasionally sipping their drinks.

Dee had no idea how long they had been sitting there when Ellen appeared out of nowhere with another glass of Sprite for Castiel and another brandy for Dee. When Ellen had gone again, receiving two nods of thanks for her kindness, conversation started up again between Dee and Castiel. They spoke of smaller things now, keeping to less upsetting topics.

And so the night went on; conversations and silence, conversations and silence. Dee thought she was enjoying herself more tonight than she had at all the previous Christmas parties at the pub put together.

* * * * *

Some time a little after midnight another person joined their table mid-conversation. Dee and Castiel looked away from each other to find Jo sitting at a chair across the table to them.

“Am I interrupting?” Jo grinned shamelessly, clearly completely aware of her intrusion.

“As a matter of fact you are,” Dee said, giving Jo a mock stern look. “Nothing important, though. In any case, I thought you might want to meet Castiel. Cas, this is Jo, Ellen’s daughter and Sammy’s co-conspirator when we were kids.”

Jo scowled at her, offended. “Co-conspirator? If you were to have a closer look at your memories, I think you’ll find that I was his boss and that he was mostly tasked with coming up with ways to make us look completely innocent.”

Dee laughed. “True. He did a pretty good job of that though, didn’t he?”

“Indeed he did. I will admit that if it hadn’t been for Sam and his clever mind I would probably still be grounded. “Jo grinned. “Though Castiel probably doesn’t want to here about all of that. No one needs to know all the details.” Her grin turned shrewd for a moment, before it slid back to friendliness and genuine interest. “By the way, can I call you Cas? Your name doesn’t roll of the tongue so easily, no offence.”

Dee felt a sharp stab in her abdomen at those words, as if someone had been sitting under their table with a knife, ready to lash out at her any time. She fought the urge to look down just to be sure. She didn’t feel the sticky liquidity of blood, so clearly it was all in her mind.

Castiel, however, was completely unaffected by the question, not noticing Dee’s reaction. Dee hoped no one had noticed it. “None taken. My name is a bit… unusual. I don’t mind.” The corners of her mouth tugged up in a small smile, and Dee could feel her face falling with surprise for a millisecond before she caught herself. She had never seen Castiel smile at anyone before, except herself, of course. It felt odd.

But Castiel looked like she was genuinely enjoying herself, and the oddness was overshadowed by happiness that Castiel wasn’t regretting coming here with her.

“So. Cas. You’re from the States too, right?” Jo didn’t wait for an answer, but barged right on, hardly even pausing for a breath. “Funny how us Americans are drawn to each other, like there’s some internal magnet in us pulling us together.” Dee thought that Jo was drunk. Not might-vomit-or-pass-out-any-moment drunk, but drunk enough that she was spewing out a bit nonsensical sentences.

Dee looked at Castiel and found those blue eyes already watching her, looking a bit bewildered. Dee just shrugged. “Let her babble on, she loves the sound of her own voice when she’s had a bit to drink,” she mouthed. Castiel looked like she got it, nodded and gave Dee a small smile, a bit bigger, a bit warmer than the one she had given Jo. Dee felt a warmth bleeding all over her chest. It was nice. Castiel held her gaze for a while before looking back at the rambling Jo.

Jo hadn’t noticed their lapse in attention in the least. “…and Dee’s been, like spending all her time with her nose in all the books and just not doing anything else except working here and stuff, and I was getting a bit worried because that is a bit _lame_ and she wasn’t like that before, always running around and talking to boys —” Dee felt a slight blush creep over her face and she couldn’t quite tell why, but she hoped neither of the others noticed “— and pretty much stalking me and Sam to make sure we didn’t do anything _too_ bad.” Jo paused and looked around the table, as if searching for something. “Wait, I forgot my drink. Just a sec.”

Dee heard Castiel letting out a breath beside her. “Sorry, she can be a bit… _intense_ , especially when she’s drunk,” Dee said, smiling apologetically.

“It’s fine. She’s very entertaining at least,” Castiel said, smile gone but humour lighting up her eyes, the corners crinkling with joy.

Dee bumped their shoulders together. “Yeah, that she is. I missed her after they moved, and I think Sam missed her even more. Growing up, he he never had many kids his own age around him. He went well with Jo.” Castiel nodded, but said nothing, as Jo was coming back, beer in one hand and a tall glass filled with a colourful liquid and topped off with a tiny, neon pink umbrella.

She sat down in her chair, sipped her fancy drink, and took a deep breath, grinning. “Now, where was I?”

* * * * *

Jo sat with them for entirely too long, her doing most of the talking, Dee and Castiel listening, getting more confused and amused by the minute. Ellen supplied them with new drinks every now and then, and when Jo finally caught sight of some guy she just _had_ to dance with and left them alone, Dee looked down at the table and was surprised by the number of empty glasses she saw.

Some of those were Castiel’s glasses, previously filled with soda or water, and some of them were Jo — although Jo had mostly been drinking beer — but quite a few of them were Dee’s. That I-won’t-drink-all-that-much-tonight thing?

Yeah. That was out the window.

“Excuse me, I need to go visit the ladies’ room,” Dee said, standing up. She felt herself swaying slightly and made an effort to walk straight.

She still only narrowly avoided the door frame as she walked through the bathroom door.

Dee used the staff bathroom. She knew she wasn’t supposed to, not when she wasn’t working, but she figured this could be the exception. It wasn’t a normal pub day, after all, and anyway, it didn’t hurt anyone and she was only going to be there for like five seconds to pee.

Despite a little unsteadiness the toilet visit itself went fine. Like, it went just like any pee break did, and peeing wasn’t exactly hard so she wouldn’t have messed that up anyway, Dee thought. But as she stood washing her hands, she caught sight of her own face in the mirror.

For the longest time she just stood staring at her reflection, water running unheeded over her hands, soap quickly running off and disappearing down the drain.

Dee couldn’t stop looking. She couldn’t quite believe that was actually her face staring back at her. The woman in the mirror looked tired, a bit drunk, and slightly confused, but she also looked _happy_.

This was why Dee couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It had been years since she had met her own eyes in the mirror and seen happiness in them. Very many years; she wasn’t even sure she could remember when it happened last. Perhaps she had to go all the way back to before her mother died to find that occasion.

It wasn’t that she had never seen anything positive in her face, but there had always been something dark lurking behind it, not the good not strong enough to overcome or overshadow the bad. Now, however, there was pure(real?) joy that was lurking behind the drunkenness and the exhaustion, almost drowning them out, and not the other way around. It was an odd, almost alien look to Dee’s eyes.

She wondered where the happiness had come from, and why she hadn’t noticed it before. Now that she had seen in on her face, she became aware of this wonderful cheery feeling hiding in her chest, radiating warmth throughout her body/pulsing warmth into her body. How had she not noticed it earlier? It felt like it had been there for a while. Perhaps starting small, so small as to be virtually undetectable, and growing over time, slowly occupying Dee’s heart without her even knowing it.

In her slightly befuddled state of mind, this seemed to make sense, in a way, but at the same time not at all. However, she decided to presume she had come to the correct answer, and moved on to figure out what had planted the tiny seed of happiness in her chest, allowing it to grow like a parasite — but a good one. A nice parasite, one she didn’t mind terribly. She was sceptical, though. The few good things that had happened to her in her life were always closely followed by something equally bad, if not worse.

The only exception so far was her friendship with Castiel. Nothing bad had happened, and it had been good for months now. Which meant _something_ was going to terribly wrong, and probably pretty soon. Ugh. Probably better not to think about that.

What was interesting, though, was that at the thought of Castiel, the little joy-parasite in Dee’s chest did a sort of fluttering jump, despite her stomach dropping like a stone at the thought of something going wrong. Something always went wrong, and Dee knew it, but, now that she was really thinking about it, the last couple of months had been the best she’d had in years.

And the only thing different in her life was that she had a new friend.

There was definitely something there. New friend and Cas and parasite were related, connected, somehow.

It was all a bit too much right now. A bit too complicated. Too many dots to join. Dee grimaced at herself in the mirror, watching the tired seep out of her face to be replaced with happy ridiculousness.

She rather liked it.

There was a knock on the door. “Whoever’s in there, this is a staff bathroom! Guests use the other restrooms.” Ellen did not sound happy. Dee tore her eyes away from the fascinating mirror and, remembering that the water was still running, hurriedly washed her hands before opening the door to find a sour scowl on Ellen’s face. It softened slightly when she saw Dee, but only slightly.

“Oh. It’s you.” Ellen sighed. “I’m not going to throw you out of here or anything, but I would prefer it if you used the bathroom for patrons when you’re not working.”

“As you command.” Dee gave a salute. It came out a bit off-kilter.

“Right.” Ellen frowned at her, scowl still very much in place. “Are you drunk, Dee? I know you’ve had a few drinks, but you seem a bit… unbalanced. Sure you shouldn’t be thinking about going home?”

Now it was Dee’s turn to scowl. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. It’s all good.” A thought hit her. “And anyway if I get too bad my friend can help me get home.” She nodded, pleased with herself for remembering that she had not come alone.

Ellen still looked sceptical, but she just shook her head and shrugged. “Whatever you say. But don’t come running to me if poor Castiel gets enough of you and you still need help.” Dee knew those words were complete bullshit. Ellen might seem stern, but she certainly wouldn’t leave anyone to fend for themselves when they were drunk beyond their wits. She always helped, and made sure her patrons got home safe.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m getting out of your bathroom now, okay? Won’t be going back there tonight, like you asked.” Dee stepped past Ellen and walked towards the door that led out into the pub proper.

“Good. Hope you have an enjoyable night, Dee. And I think you’ve had enough to drink. Should probably keep to water from now on.”

Dee nodded, but Ellen might not have seen it, as it was in the same moment that the door swung behind her, closing the pub off from Ellen and the staff area.

She looked around, trying to locate Castiel again. Right. At the corner table. The one Dee always sat at, when it was free.

At first, she didn’t see Castiel, but then the crowd moved a bit as a new song started and more people went out on the dancefloor, and Dee got a clearer view of the table. The momentary anxiety she had felt at the thought that Castiel might have gone disappeared, leaving only a trace, a small rift in an old scar created one time she had been left behind.

As she pushed her way through the now thinned throng of people, Dee took in the Christmas decoration surrounding their table. She got a sneaking suspicion that Jo was well aware of where Dee preferred to sit, because that corner was just that much more Christmasy and colourful and covered in garlands and holly and with at least three small knots of mistletoe. It seemed Jo was intent on setting Dee up with someone. She wondered if the person had already been picked or if Jo was just walking around the pub looking for what she deemed suitable strangers and then pushing them in Dee’s face — perhaps literally; it wouldn’t surprise her. Jo had gone far to find Dee what she called _a special someone_ , whatever that meant.

Dee wasn’t sure she wanted to know. In any case, she was very much not in the mood to be set up with randoms she had never even seen before. In fact, tonight the only thing she wanted was to have a good time with Castiel, who now officially held the title of Best Friend in Dee’s mind.

How odd. Dee didn’t think she had ever had a best friend before. She had moved around too much, and been too focused on Sam being okay. And then, after she had moved to London, she hadn’t really been able to connect with anyone new much, Benny being the exception. Benny wasn’t a close friend, though. More like a close acquaintance, or a bit above that casual friend you never hung out with but exchanged a few friendly news and bits with when you ran into them at the grocery store.

Dee picked up two glasses of water from the bar, and only spilled a little when she put them down at the table. Castiel jumped slightly at the sharp noise.

“Sorry.”

Castiel only shrugged at her, indicating she didn’t mind. She took the glass and sipped from it when Dee pushed it over to her. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” Dee said as she sat down heavily next to Castiel. When she looked at the other woman again, she thought she looked a bit pale, and her frown was deeper than usual. “You okay, Cas?”

Castiel just shrugged again.

“That’s not an answer,” Dee pressed. “You look like you’ve seen an irritating ghost.”

A short, startled laugh escaped Castiel at that. “I suppose that’s not entirely too far from the truth.” She sighed. “But it’s nothing, really.”

“Don’t do that. Obviously something’s spooked you. Just tell me.”

Castiel looked down, studying her hands lying curled around her glass of water on the table/in her lap.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dee said when the quiet went on for too long. She shuffled slightly to her right, now sitting so close to Castiel that their arms touched.

Whether it was the prompt or the comfort of the touch or a bit of both, Dee didn’t know, but finally Castiel shook her head lightly before leaning back against the wall. “It really is no big deal. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

“Someone you didn’t want to see?”

“Yes.” Castiel paused, and sighed again before going on. “I thought I saw Lucifer. My brother.”

“Oh. But it wasn’t him?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. But I was interrupted by some other guy who thought I’d been looking at him He came over and decided to stand right next to me, looming.” Her face sctrnched up in disgust. “He got —” Castiel shuddered, apparently unable to help herself, “— _handsy_. I told him to leave me alone. He didn’t listen.”

Dee was about to say something, she wasn’t sure what, but probably something along the lines of, “show me who it is and I’ll kick his ass so hard he’ll have nightmares about chairs for the rest of his life”, but the other woman wasn’t finished with her recounting and kept talking before Dee could get out a word.

“I told him I wasn’t interested, and he didn’t listen to that either.” Castiel’s face darkened. “He should have. I can’t be sure, but I think I may have broken his fingers. I definitely broke his nose, though.”

Dee felt herself go slack-mouthed. “You broke his fingers?” she asked, and got what she could only describe as a _well, duh_ face in return.

“I said I’m not sure. He got scared and ran off, rudely crashing into several guests on his way. It clearly hurt, in any case.” When Dee didn’t say anything, didn’t even blink, Castiel said, “He did deserve it. I gave him plenty of warning.”

“Oh, I completely agree, he did deserve it, I just — you broke his fingers? Maybe, I mean,” she added before Castiel could correct her again, “and you definitely broke his nose. I — how?”

Castiel gave her a look as if she were being dense on purpose. “I elbowed him in the nose. That usually does the trick. And fingers break if you bend them backwards far enough.”

“I — that’s not what I meant. I’m just a bit surprised, that’s all.” Dee shook her head, in her mind seeing the whole thing happening. If Castiel had been as angry as she looked now and the anger had been directed at her, Dee would have bailed long before Castiel had had time to hit her, let alone _twice_.

“Oh.” A faint, embarrassed flush spread across Castiel’s face. “I’ve told you my parents were a bit, uhm, extreme in the way they looked at their religion? Well, they believed demons existed for real, and they didn’t want their children to be caught unawares by any of Satan’s minions. So they gave us fighting classes.” She took a sip of her water. “That’s one of my favourite things from my childhood, actually. It was quite fun. And it’s been useful a couple of time since. Like tonight.” A hint of the darkness returned to her face. “The guy was bleeding and clutching his fingers before he even knew he’d been hit.”

Dee felt an inexplicable surge of pride. She was still surprised, but she believed it completely. Castiel might, at first, give off the air of an absentminded, socially reclusive nerd, but after getting to know her, Dee had gotten the impression that this was a woman you did not mess with. It seemed that second impression had been correct.

“Wow.” There wasn’t much else she could think of saying. Dee was pretty impressed. She knew some fighting herself, but she’d never broken anyone’s fingers before. “Well, anyway, I’m glad you’re okay, and that you chased him off.”

“Me too.” Castiel shifted slightly, leaning into Dee a bit. “Ellen came over after, asked what happened. When I told her, she said she’d heard rumours about him before, and that he was going on the list of people banned from the pub. She apologised for inviting him.” She looked genuinely confused at this. “I don’t know why. It’s not her fault the guy’s an asshole.”

Dee thought that last word sounded weird coming from Castiel. It was one hundred percent appropriate in this setting, however. “I guess she felt responsible for inviting him to the party. I doubt she has any complaints about how you handled him.” Castiel nodded. “Uh, also, sorry I was gone so long. I kinda spaced out for a bit there, until Ellen came and knocked on the door.”

“I didn’t mind. Except for that guy, of course. I suspect he may not have approached at all if you had been here as well.”

“Yeah, sorry. Not leaving you alone again, then.”

Castiel frowned at her. “I think I just gave pretty convincing evidence/proof that I am able to fend for myself.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t. I just…” Dee wasn’t sure what she _just_ this time. She looked at Castiel, taking in all of her face, her less-messy-than-usual-but-still-absolutely-out-of-control hair, the annoyed frown that couldn’t quite cover up the fondness behind it. Their surroundings; the abundance of Christmas decorations of almost every kind, from colourful lights to tinder garlands to plant garlands and the three mistletoe branches, one of which hung almost directly above their heads.

Dee suddenly became aware of how little distance there was between them. How close together they were sitting. Her right arm was perfectly aligned with Castiel’s left, touching from shoulder to elbow. Their knees kept bumping, thighs less than half a centimetre apart. And those blue, blue eyes… Dee felt positively privileged that they were looking at _her_ and not some sleazy dude who couldn’t keep his hans to himself. Or anyone else in the pub, really.

It was the most perfect shade of blue Dee had ever seen, and she found herself leaning towards Castiel, trying to get closer to those eyes, wishing she could literally drown in them. Figuratively, she felt well beyond drowned already.

The eyes had a glaze of confusion over them, dimming the glittering glimmer Dee was so fond of a little. But they were getting closer and closer and she didn’t think to question the confusion, she just kept floating towards them, hoping to be caught up in a current carrying her into them, into the brilliant blue.

Then the eyes widened as they got too close and Dee’s lips connected with Castiel’s. She didn’t move away, but the shock in the eyes that occupied all of Dee’s vision eventually registered and she pulled back, abashed. The shock and confusion present in Castiel’s eyes was plastered all over her face as well.

“Uh, sorry? I didn’t mean to do that. I think I’m,” Dee looked away, looked down at her hands, which where still resting lightly on Castiel’s arms. “I think maybe I’m a bit drunk.” As if on cue, her body swayed and she had to catch her balance by holding onto the table so hard her knuckles turned white. She felt lightheaded and dizzy. Odd. The water should have helped, if anything; not made it worse. “A bit more than I thought,” she amended, looking apologetically up at Castiel again. The shock had faded and the confusion melted away, to be replaced by worry.

“Do you want to go home? Do you need help getting there?” Castiel grabbed her arm to help steady her. She sounded very concerned, eyes leaving Dee for a moment to flicker around the room, presumably to locate Ellen.

“Uh,” Dee said again. She didn’t want to burden Castiel with her drunken ass, but she was also pretty sure she wouldn’t manage to get home on your own. “I don’t know. If you have the time, maybe? I’m not sure I should be walking home alone right now.”

“Walking? Dee, you aren’t _walking_ anywhere. Hang on, there’s Ellen — are you able to sit alone for a moment? I’m going to ask her to call a cab.” Dee nodded. Castiel made sure she could sit upright unassisted before walking over to the bar, where Ellen was chitchatting with one of the guests.

Castiel was only gone for a few moments, and when she came back she had another glass of water. “Here, drink this.” She handed Dee the water, and the concerned frown deepened. “Let me know if you feel like being sick.”

“I’m not a puker, Cas,” Dee protested indignantly, but she obediently drained almost all of the water in the glass.

Dee wasn’t sure, because she was mostly staring straight ahead trying to make the world stop wobbling so sickeningly the whole time, but she thought not much time could have passed by the time Castiel dragged her to her feet.

“Come on, the cab is here,” she huffed, trying to help a not entirely cooperative Dee get up and out from behind the table.

The cab stood just outside the door, waiting. Castiel helped Dee get into it, then went around the car and jumped in herself.

“What are you doing?” Dee said, confused.

“I’m coming with you,” Castiel answered, face clearly saying she thought that was pretty obvious. “You’re very drunk, Dee. I’m making sure you get home safe, and that you don’t start cooking or showering or something and start a fire or drown.”

“I’m glad you have so much faith in me,” Dee said sarcastically, though it might have come out more as an unintelligible mass of almost indistinguishable words.

“Whatever you say,” Castiel replied calmly.

Dee might have dozed off for a bit, because the cab ride seemed to take a lot less time than it should. Castiel got out of the car after paying the driver and hurried over to Dee’s side, helping her out and supporting her as they walked into the building and took the lift up to Dee’s apartment. Castiel wasn’t fond of lifts, Dee knew, and truth be told, she wasn’t either. Tonight, though, she wasn’t complaining, as walking up several stories of stairs seemed like a positively impossible task.

“Do you have your keys?” Castiel asked when they stood outside the door. She held out her hand for them, but when Dee found the keys in a pocket of her jeans she ignored the hand and went straight for the lock.

However, after several pitiful failures at putting the key in the lock, Dee sighed in defeat and handed them to Castiel, who unlocked the door easily in a matter of seconds. She half dragged, half supported Dee through the door and closed it behind them before leading her straight to the bedroom. Castiel helped Dee get out of some of her clothes, jeans having a well-deserved reputation of being incredibly awful as pyjamas, and pretty much tucked her into bed.

Dee felt sleep overcoming her, and the last thing she saw before falling into a dark abyss of dreamless sleep was Castiel, leaning exhaustedly on the bedroom wall, watching Dee with worry still dominating her face.


	12. Interlude III

Last Christmas had been pretty good, Sam thought as he lay waiting for sleep to come, late one Christmas evening. He had gotten to see Adam again. Dee had been pretty happy. Well, more happy than she usually was. And Dad — well, Dad had been Dad; spent most of his time being drunk or sleeping it off or drinking more. But he’d been calmer, quieter, more out of their way. He never found out about Adam’s visit, which Sam was pretty happy for. He didn’t like to think about what Dad would’ve done if he had/did.

This Christmas was _not_ good.

All previous Christmases Sam could remember, Dad had kept to himself most of the time. Dee said it was because Dad missed Mum the most during Christmas. Sam had believed her before, but now he thought it was because Dad was tired of his children and wanted to pretend they didn’t exist, just for a few days.

That was fine with Sam. He sometimes pretended Dad didn’t exist. Imagined how his and Dee’s lives would be if he wasn’t there. Maybe they would see Adam more often, or even live with him. Sam would’ve liked that.

He hadn’t seen Adam since that night, exactly a year ago. He knew Dee still spoke to him sometimes, but she had done that less and less as they got further into the year.

Sam was starting to suspect Adam wasn’t coming back. Ever.

This thought, which he had only started plaguing him a couple of days ago, was one of the reasons this Christmas was very much not good.

Another was Dad.

This year, he had hardly kept to himself at all. He only spent time in his bedroom when he was sleeping, and not always even then. He didn’t go out to pubs. He was always home.

In fact, the only time Dad had left the house at all in the last few weeks — perhaps the last few months; Sam wasn’t sure, he’d given up keeping any sort of track of Dad’s alcohol consumption — was to go to the liquor store.

And when Dad was cooped up too long, even if it was by his own choice — perhaps _especially_ when it was by his own choice — he got irritable. And when Dad was irritable, he let it out on his kids.

Sam only got told off for small, unimportant things. He could take that. It wasn’t fun; it felt like a punch in the gut every time, his father telling him how he’s not good enough, how he does everything wrong, how he should do, _be_ , more, though Sam can’t fathom what that even means. He can’t be more than he is. That was simple maths.

But Dee had it worse. Oh, she got told off as well, and that was all Sam ever saw, but he knew what happened after he had gone to bed and the other two thought he was sleeping, what happened when he went outside for a while, either to run an errand or just get some fresh air.

More than once, he had come home, been about to go through the door, and turned around when he heard raised voices and muffled crying through it.

Each time he felt terrible. He was such a coward.

Guilt gnawed at him all the time. He should do something. Stand up to Dad. Tell him to stop. But Dad clearly thought Sam as oblivious to this as Sam knew Dad was about Adam’s Christmas visit a year ago, and Sam wasn’t sure what his father would do, either to him — which he didn’t want, but it was better than the alternative, he thought — or too Dee, which would be awful and Sam would never be able to forgive himself. He knew Dee went through a lot, including but not limited to Dad’s rage and risking incurring his wrath any moment, to protect Sam, to keep him out of harms way. He didn’t like it. But he didn’t think there was much he could do.

He had thought about talking to Dee about it, tell her that he knew — surely, she must suspect that he did, have the slightest inkling, because it wasn’t the kind of thing that was easy to ignore when you lived three people, even if one or two of them were pretty small, in small, shitty apartments or motel rooms — but he knew she wouldn’t want to talk about it and then it would only add to her guilt. Sam didn’t understand why Dee had so low an opinion of herself, or why she took on the blame for everything bad around her, especially if it happened to Sam, but he knew it wouldn’t be helpful for either of them to add to her guilt and (irrational) conscience.

Dee thought everything wrong that happened around her was her fault. She had never said so, but Sam knew it was true. He thought this was one of the most ridiculous things his sister did — hardly anything _bad_ that happened was her fault. She carried around so much guilt for things she couldn’t help, things she didn’t do, things she had had nothing to do with, not even by association.

But pretty much all of the good things in Sam’s life were Dee’s fault. Which meant that _fault_ probably was the wrong word. He had tried so many times to get her to see that. He had told her, both directly and indirectly, that she was the best sister in the world and she was all he needed, all he could ever want to get him through his days. He did wish Adam was there too, and that the situation with Dad was different, but Dee was the most important person in his life, and she never did anything that affected him negatively.

Sure, they fought and bickered every now and then, but they were siblings, after all. Siblings always have disagreements. But Sam was lucky enough to have a sister who would stay with him forever, who would do anything for him to live as good a life as he could.

Sam only wished he could help her as much as she helped him. He couldn’t, and he felt awful for it. He wished he were bigger, older, stronger, so he could make it stop.

Eventually, it did, for tonight. Sam heard the bedroom door close as Dad went to bed. Some time later, the door to his own bedroom, which he shared with his sister, opened slowly, a sliver of weak light shining through. It closed, and he heard light steps walking across the room, coming to a stop by/at[?] his bed. He pretended to be asleep. It wasn’t hard; he had done it so many times over the years, and only been caught a couple of times.

After a couple of minutes of what Sam could only describe as a fond silence, a hand lightly stroked his hair away from his forehead before the footsteps sounded again, moving the few steps to the other hard, uncomfortable bed in the room. It was slightly worse than Sam’s; he had tested, and been mad at his sister for letting him have the best bed when she was older and had a harder time sleeping. Kids could sleep anywhere, Sam knew. As long as they felt safe.

And he did feel safe.

Sam fell asleep listening to Dee’s quiet, muffled sobs and sniffles, wishing _she_ could be safe too.


	13. Chapter 9

The first thing Dee saw when she woke up was darkness. At first, she was afraid she’d gone blind, but then she rubbed her eyes and discovered they had only been glued shut by sleep. She sat up, and looked around herself. She was in her own bed. That wasn’t exactly surprising, but she couldn’t quite remember going to bed, nor folding the clothes she had worn yesterday in a neat pile by the wardrobe.

What had she done yesterday? Wait… Dee looked at her phone, checked the date. It was Christmas. Yesterday was Christmas day. Which meant…

The annual Christmas party Ellen always arranged. Dee had gone. And she had — yes, she had brought Castiel.

As if the name was a trigger word for her memory, all of last night flooded over her.

All of it. _Oh god._

That was embarrassing. Dee had not only broken her promise to herself of not getting drunk, but her broken promise had lead to Castiel having to follow her home and put her to bed like a fucking three-year-old.

And she had been kind enough to do so, even after Dee had ambushed her with a kiss.

Jesus. That was a mess. Why had she done that? All she knew was that those cursed, blue eyes were to blame, somehow. Yeah. They bore the sole responsibility for the whole thing.

Well, those eyes, and the alcohol. Which had kind of been Ellen’s fault, since she had kept giving them free drinks all night. That had been fine in Castiel’s case, as she had drunk only non-alcoholic beverages, but Dee? Ugh.

Though she had to admit, she should have been responsible enough to keep control of the amount of drinks she’d had. She knew what was too much. She knew her limits. And she had wanted to stay at least soberish, exactly because she hadn’t wanted Castiel to be subjected to Drunk Dee. Drunk Dee, who had needed help to get home, who hadn’t been able to walk up stairs, who had needed help to undress enough to go to bed.

Who had kissed her best friend. What the fuck.

Dee sighed. She would need to talk to Castiel about that. Both the kiss, and the drunken mess she had been yesterday. She should probably call her, sooner rather than later.

Nah, fuck that. Breakfast first. And coffee. _So much coffee_.

Dee hoped this wasn’t become a habit — again — waking up in the morning, having to concentrate to remember the previous night, needing to sober up before she could do anything the required more of her than just existing. She’d been there before, and she did not want to go back.

When she got into the kitchen — having put on yesterday’s clothes because the neat pile had been conveniently close by and, as far as she could remember, had not been spilled puke on at any point last night — she found a pack of pain killers lying on her little kitchen table.

Castiel had had to drag her drunken ass back to Dee’s apartment, but had still been thoughtful and sweet beyond anything Dee could ever deserved and gotten her painkillers to get rid of this fucking headache Dee hadn’t even noticed until now. She had been too busy remembering the previous night and trying not to die of belated embarrassment.

A couple of painkillers. Three glasses of water. One slice of pizza leftover from… Dee had no idea, but it looked at smelled fine, so she didn’t care.

And one cup of coffee stronger than the fires of hell on bonfire night.

Two hours later, Dee felt much better. She had eaten a bit more, showered and found fresh clothes that did not smell faintly — well, in the case of yesterday’s clothes that had been not-so-faintly, if she were to be honest — of alcohol, and almost forgotten about last night’s events.

Now, though, she had to remember them. It was almost 6 pm. She felt she really did have to call Castiel today to apologise. Not tomorrow or the day after or on New Year’s Eve or the next time they met at the library. _Today._

She just had to gather her courage first. Not liquid courage, she admonished herself sternly. The other kind.

The kind she had had to have most of her life, just to get by and keep her brother safe.

Castiel wasn’t all that scary, though. It was just that, well, Dee felt ashamed that she had put Castiel through yesterday.

And then there was what the courage was really for: in the back of her mind, where she had pushed it and tried to hide as best as she could underneath pictures of rainbows and unicorns and sparkling glitter, was the fear that she might lose her friendship with Castiel. Dee wasn’t sure this was big enough for that to happen, but it certainly threatened it and the stability of their relationship.

They might still wish to be friends, but some things change the dynamics of friendships. Being accompanied home because you drank to much was probably not one of them — except in the sense that the other person got dirt on you and you now owe them a big favour — but kissing? That was one of them. Dee was pretty sure that would change something in their friendship. She wasn’t quite sure how Castiel had reacted, because she had been too drunk to read her properly, but shock had definitely been in there. Apart from that, Dee had no clue. Was Castiel mad at her now? Did she hate her? (Probably not, Dee thought, since Castiel had gotten her home safely, managed to get her to her bed and tucked her in, and left painkillers for her on the table.) Or, perhaps worse, had Castiel _liked_ it? That would put them on very unstable ground. Dee didn’t think that was the case, though. Castiel had been very sweet and patient with yesterday, but that was just what friends did, even if they didn’t always bother to actually follow you to your bed. Shoving you into a cab was sometimes enough. Castiel could also have spoken to Ellen and have her fix the situation. Or just left. Dee wouldn’t have blamed her, based on the other events that night.

She sighed. She really should stop distracting herself and putting off the call to Castiel.

Maybe she could text instead? That was slightly less scary. But no; for one thing, Dee thought that sounded like the cowardly way out, and for another, some things were a bit too big for just texting.

Yeah. It had to be a phone call. She was just going to get another cup of coffee first.

Sitting at her kitchen table with a large mug of coffee in front of her, Dee held her phone, pretty much ready to get it over with. The screen showed Castiel’s contact page, and Dee’s finger was hovering over the call button. She was going to click it. She was. She just had to take a few deep breaths first and gather her thoughts.

Dee almost dropped her phone in the coffee when it started ringing in her hands. She hadn’t even had time to finish the first deep breath, and she almost choked on it when she saw who was calling.

Castiel.

Well, at least that saved her the trouble of forcing herself to call. Now she just had to answer it.

Dee waited almost fifteen seconds before finally picking up, partly because she had to get over the shock of her phone suddenly vibrating and playing one of her favourite songs loudly, and partly because she didn’t want to seem desperate or anything, as if she were sitting around with her phone in her hands just waiting for the call.

She pushed away the small thought that reminded her that that was actually not too far from the truth.

“Hello, this is Dee speaking?” Dee said, even though she knew perfectly well who was calling and that the caller knew who she was.

“Hello, Dee. This is Castiel.”

Dee rolled her eyes. Of course it was Castiel. The caller ID said so. And no one else she knew answered the phone like that. “Hi, Cas.” She hesitated, plucking at a loose strand on the bottom hem of her shirt. How did she proceed from here? She had never actually figured out what she was going to say to Castiel when she finally managed to call — which, in the end, she hadn’t. So she went for casual, trying to buy time and hoping beyond hope that Castiel might come up with a tactful way of approaching the subject. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering, yesterday…” Castiel paused for a moment, and Dee’s heart felt like it had stopped but also beating too fast at the same time. “Well, I just wanted to check if you’re okay. You were pretty far gone yesterday. I figured you’d be awake by now.”

Dee breathed out in relief, angling the phone away from her mouth in an attempt to hide it before answering. “Yeah, I’ve been up for a while.” She coughed lightly. “I’m fine, really. Had one hell of a headache when I woke up, but painkillers mostly took care of that. Thanks for that, by the way.” She heard an intake of breath on the other end of the line, Castiel was about to say something. Dee quickly went on before she had a chance. She needed to get this over with. “And everything else. I’m so sorry you had to deal with me like that. I feel awful. You shouldn’t have had to haul me home like that.”

“It was no trouble, Dee. I wanted to make sure you got home safe. I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”

True, Dee would have, but somehow she didn’t think that would ever become necessary. She wasn’t sure if Castiel didn’t drink at all or if it was just yesterday, but she suspected Castiel would be the kind of drinker who’s in perfect control of their alcohol consumption, knowing exactly when to stop and actually managing to do it, to. “Yeah, well, still. Thank you. And again, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin your night.”

“You didn’t. It was a good night. Don’t worry about it.” There was a ruffling sound on Castiel’s end, like a bunch of paper being gathered and arranged neatly in a stack. “I just wanted to hear if you were okay. I have to go back to work now. Talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Dee said, but Castiel had already hung up. Dee didn’t know how to interpret that.

But she did know she wouldn’t stop worrying any time soon.

* * * * *

Dee didn’t talk to Castiel the day after that. Nor the next day, either. Or the next. There was two reasons for this:

1\. She didn’t want to interrupt Castiel, who was probably working on one of her papers. As usual.

2\. She didn’t want to talk to Castiel.

Dee still hadn’t figured out what Castiel had meant in their last conversation. Had she merely been polite, trying to soothe Dee’s worries because she was nice like that, or had she really meant it when she said she’d had a good night? It didn’t help that the hang-up had been rather abrupt. Now, Castiel had some odd quirks and habits, and one of them was that she sometimes didn’t handle social situations all that well. Which was fine with Dee, and anyway she was used to it by now.

But, and this was what Dee feared was the truth, Castiel might also not have wanted to talk to her, or felt so awkward doing so that she had just ended the conversation as soon as possible. Cas never mentioned the kiss, Dee noted to herself for the billionth time. Was it because she didn’t know what to say? Or was she was upset with Dee because of it? Or had she thought Dee had forgotten, and avoided the subject so as not to make it awkward for Dee?

It was a mess, swirling around in a never-ending maelstrom in her head. How was Dee supposed to get anything else done when she was so busy worrying and overthinking this?

Not that she had many other things to do. Which was probably part of the problem. She sighed, and went to find the vacuum cleaner in the hopes that its loud eating of dust might distract her thoughts, perhaps freeing her to consider other things that required her attention, like how she was going to survive the New Year’s Eve dinner with Ellen and Jo when probably both of them, but at least Ellen, had seen everything that Dee had done that night. Ellen had been the one to call for a cab, for fuck’s sake. She never missed a thing that went on in her pub. _Especially_ if Dee was somehow involved.

Vacuuming did nothing for her thoughts, but at least she had relieved her apartment of some dust bunnies.

* * * * *

Finally, on the fourth day after their last phone call and the fifth day after what Dee had, in her head, dubbed _The Party of Possible Doom_ , she texted Castiel and asked if she had time to meet her at LaFitte’s to have coffee and read a book and maybe help Benny get rid of some Christmas cakes.

She checked her phone anxiously for hours, hoping and dreading a reply in equal measures, while doing some dishes and organising her cutlery drawing.

Despite her eager screen-tapping every two or three minutes, no reply ticked in before almost three hours had passed, when a short message finally made the screen light up:

_Okay. I can be there at 6._

6\. Right. That was still a few hours away. Dee decided to go out and find something to eat. Something simple, like a burger or something. Then she’d just go to LaFitte’s and wait there. She could read. Or talk to Benny. He probably had some entertaining stories from his family’s Christmas celebrations — or at least a story or two he’d want to tell her, no matter what she thought of it. He usually did, after family gatherings and other events he went to. Dee wasn’t always actually interested, but Benny clearly enjoyed telling his stories, and his voice was easy to tune out while still appearing to be listening, nodding in the appropriate places.

Yeah. It was a plan. A somewhat boring one, at least the first few hours of it (except for the food part; food was always enjoyable), but still a plan. Dee found the book she was currently reading, shoved it carefully into her backpack, got dressed for chilly weather and went out.

As usual, she chose to walk. She wasn’t taking any long detours today, even though she had quite a lot of time to kill. For some reason, Dee was feeling tired. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. Sure, she wasn’t sleeping as well as she should, averaging at four hours per night instead of the recommended 8-9, but she did sleep, unlike earlier in the fall, before she got to know Castiel.

It wasn’t like she was terribly busy either, running around from one activity or appointment or job or anything. Ellen had given her all of Christmas off. Dee had no idea how that had happened. She had certainly not asked for it. However, she couldn’t be bothered to find out, even though she kind of wished she were working. It would probably have taken her mind off some things.

That was the only explanation she could find for her exhaustion, really. Too many things swimming around in her mind, all grabbing for attention. The ones that were loudest, clearest, [biggest,] and always present, all involved Castiel in some way. Dee found it quite annoying. She really wished she could be free of those worries, like Castiel had asked her to be. _Nothing to worry about_ had always before, in Dee’s world, meant either _there is something to worry about but I’m lying to you in the hopes that you might leave it alone_ or _this is not yours to worry about so just fuck off or something_.

In addition to thoughts concerning Castiel, Sam’s wedding was never far from her mind either. That was a fucking mess and Dee wished she could just magically make it all go away. She had sort of decided she was going to go. She had no idea of how she was going to survive the flight over the Atlantic, but she supposed she’d figure something out. Perhaps she’d meet that nice flight attendant again. So very unlikely, Dee knew, but she could dream. If it hadn’t been for the terrified _oh god oh god oh god oh god I’m going to die I’m going to die we’re all going to die_ mantra in her head, she probably would have asked for her number.

Never mind that flight attendants lived busy lives taking them all over the world. Dee wouldn’t have minded just a visit every now and then.

Well, at least she wouldn’t have minded back then. She didn’t know what had changed, but right now the thought made her feel a bit ill. She had no explanation for this phenomenon, but she thought it was pretty stupid, not to mention annoying and impractical, since it meant she couldn’t get laid these days due to this aversion to people she had previously found sexually attractive. Not that she had done much laying around the last 6-7 months anyway. Dee kept avoiding people, even going so far as to stop going out in the nights, and she couldn’t get a grip on why. She only knew it seemed even more important now that she didn’t go get it on with random strangers.

Hell, not even non-random strangers did the trick these days. There was a very handsome librarian who worked only like once a week or something, and Dee had been eyeing him for quite some time now. She hadn’t done anything about it, and she wasn’t sure she ever would — he wasn’t really her type, being annoying and aloof every time she had interacted with him — though she had occasionally entertained the idea of a one-night stand with him, just to get him out of her head, and because he truly was quite handsome. Even Charlie had agreed with that, saying that if she were to do a dude, he would be very high on her list of candidates.

And the last months or two Dee had found herself leaving the library quickly if he were there. His presence, which had before been enjoyable if only because she/Dee admired the view, had become a real nuisance to be avoided at all costs.

The mere thought of _considering_ having sex had started to make her feel uneasy. It was an odd feeling; like what she was thinking of was something _wrong_ she should never entertain any thought of.

Head filled with a chaos of thoughts, Dee actually walked straight past the burger joint she had meant to stop at, and she had to walk back two blocks when she realised she’d been so deep into the internal discussion she had missed it. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to have the best cheeseburger in town just because she had wandered off. And anyway, she liked walking, and had been doing less of lately. Two extra blocks wouldn’t kill her. Far from it. Dee was a grown-ass woman. She could fucking well walk if she fucking well had to. It was just a matter of making her brain tell her legs which direction to walk in.

Right now, the brain sent some signals to her legs, and they led her into a 180 turn. When she spotted the sign above the door of the burger-selling place her feet almost started operating on their own, with little interference from her brain. She was _hungry_ , goddamnit, and even her legs knew it.

It wasn’t long before she walked out of there again, no longer hungry and quite happy with her choice of food. Burgers might not be the healthiest things around, but they were tasty and they were good and they were available pretty much _everywhere_. Also, Dee always got lettuce on hers. That made it healthier.

Benny wasn’t at the café today. He had been playing host for his whole extended family all of Christmas, and he was still cleaning up after it, one of his nieces told Dee. Apparently, Benny had, for once, bitten over more than he could chew, and was exhausted. He had tried to go to work today, but the niece and nephew running the café today had managed to convince him to stay home.

Dee asked her to tell him she’d been here, and she hoped he’d be back soon, when he’s recovered. Then she took her coffee and sat down at her usual table, a bit off to the side of the room, took out her book, and started reading.

The café was quiet today, Dee hardly saw any other customers at all. There had been about two or three other people actually sitting down at a table, a few more taking their coffee to go, she thought, by the time she looked up from her book to find the clock on her phone told her it was seven minutes past six.

And Castiel wasn’t there yet. That was odd. She was usually so precise, arriving at the prearranged meeting time on the dot, every time. Some times she was one minute off. Never more.

So why the hell wasn’t she there now? Six, she had said. It had even been Castiel herself who came up with the time, so it should have been convenient for her.

Perhaps the traffic was bad, or Castiel missed her bus. Did she even take the bus to get here? Dee realised she had no idea where Castiel lived. Not which direction, not how far away. For all she knew, Castiel could be living five minutes away from here, or an hour by train. Why didn’t Dee know? Had she never asked? Did Castiel have her own apartment, or did she have flatmates? She had never mentioned anyone she was living with, but that meant nothing, really. If you didn’t get along all that well with your flatmates, but at the same time had no animosity towards them, you probably just avoided them as much as you could and forgot they existed when you weren’t at home.

Dee felt awful. Weren’t you supposed to know where your friends live? So you can come visiting, or if there’s an emergency situation, or so you can guess why your friend is late to your appointment.

She might [try and] call her and ask where she was. Castiel didn’t always take her phone with her, but it could be worth a shot.

Not yet, though. Dee would give her a little more time before she’d try calling. And that panic she felt looming over her could wait a while as well. Preferably an eternity.

So Dee ordered another cup of coffee, picked up her book again, and continued reading.

* * * * *

Castiel never showed up at LaFitte’s last night. Dee had gotten caught up in her book, and the café was nearly about to close up when Dee noticed the time. She decided not to call after all, since it was kinda late and anyway she’d rather go home and sleep. If she could.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. All night she had spent musing on why Castiel would do the no-show yesterday, and without even sending a text explaining why. Dee had alternated between _oh god oh god oh god something has happened to her_ and _oh god oh god oh god she hates me because of all the shit that happened at the party_ , never settling on one, sometimes convinced both was true.

She could call. That was a possibility. Call her up and ask where she’d been last night, and why she hadn’t made it to their appointment. Tell her that if she hadn’t wanted to come, she needed only to say so. Dee would understand. She wouldn’t be happy about it, but she would understand.

Unless this had all been on purpose, like some kind of payback or revenge for the Christmas party and the events that had surrounded it. Dee didn’t think that Castiel would be that mean, that vindictive, that _childish_ , but you never knew with other people.

She had assumed a lot of things about Bobby as well, and had been proven wrong, much to her own sorrow.

Dee didn’t particularly feel like taking that call just yet, though. Yesterday’s rejection, whether on purpose or not, was still painful, and it was too soon to risk another rejection already. A bit later today, perhaps. When Dee had had some proper food, drunken another gallon or two of coffee — she really should cut down on that, her hands were kind of twitchy most of the time now, presumably due to her overconsumption of coffee — and processed yesterday a bit more.

Perhaps she’d try and have a nap as well. She had no desire to go back to the no sleeping thing again, not when her sleeping pattern was finally getting close to being at least _similar_ to that of a normal human being.

Okay, that last one was unlikely to happen, but it was definitely worth a try.


	14. Chapter 10

Dee was on an airplane, and she was _not_ having fun. Sammy had better get her something really awesome for her birthday to make up for this.

The plane started shaking, and Dee grabbed the armrests harder, holding her breath. She let it escape on a sigh when this bout of turbulence seemed to be over. Oh, the things she did for family…

Really, the trip so far had gone quite well. A little turbulent sometimes, and the poor man to her left was probably pretty sick of her. Still, Dee had even been able to get some sleep, and now it was only two hours left till they touched ground and she could get off this godforsaken death machine.

 _Wait. Don’t think like that, Dee. You might jinx it._ Dee looked out the window at the blue sky filled with sun rays, and tried to think of something else.

Conveniently, a flight attendant arrived just then, asking if she wanted a cup of coffee or tea. Dee looked up at her, and at first was confused, because the attendant looked familiar, but it made no sense, she couldn’t quite place her.

“Uh, tea, thanks,” she stammered. The flight attendant turned away for a second, and as she turned around again and handed over the cup, Dee finally recognised her.

“Cas?” she said, fumbling and dropping the cup, spilling her tea all over the so far admirably patient passenger next to her. He swore, standing up, and gave a long, enraged speech on how he was going to sue her, but Dee wasn’t listening.

Castiel smiled, devilish frightening, blue eyes glowing malevolently, and Dee thought she had never been this scared in her life, not even on an airplane. What the hell was Cas doing here? Why was she a flight attendant? She had never mentioned anything like that to Dee. And why wasn’t she frowning, like she always was? Or at least, smiling her normal smile?

A sudden jolt made the angry man lose his balance, falling over Dee, and obscuring Castiel from her sight. As darkness enveloped her, she heard Castiel laughing.

“This is what you get for forcing yourself on others, _Deanna_ ,” her friend said, dark and humourless.

Dee scrambled out from underneath the other passenger. The plane jolted again, and she realised what was happening: they were falling. Fast.

“Cas? What’s going on?” The man was heavy and lifeless. Dee touched his head in her attempt to get him off of her, and felt wetness. Blood. She could smell it now. He must have hit his head when he fell.

Finally she managed to get free from underneath the man, and she cast a quick glance out of the window, seeing rocky ground coming closer and closer at a terrifying speed. “Cas?” she said again, desperately. This was like something straight out of Dee’s worst nightmares.

“I’m sorry, Dee. This was not how it was supposed to go.” The voice was no longer that of this twisted and evil Castiel.

“Jess?” Dee said, turning toward the flight attendant again.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and it was indeed Sam’s fiancée standing there instead of Castiel. She was no longer smiling. Dee could see tears running down her cheeks, sweat forming on her brow. Her hair was on fire. “I’m sorry, Dee. I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“Done what? Jess!” Dee heard the desperation in her voice as she watched Jess’s clothes, still the uniform of the airline, catch fire as well. The other passengers were screaming. Dee felt weightless for a moment, then there was a crash, and everything went black around her.

* * * * *

Dee opened her eyes, sitting up so fast she almost fell straight off the couch, banging her shin against the coffee table. She could still hear people screaming as she desperately clung to the back of the couch in an attempt to save herself from falling and a painful meeting with the floor, perhaps a second date with the coffee table.

“Ow — fuck — ow — what the he—”

The screaming stopped. Dee looked around, confused, until her eyes landed on her phone, lying right next to where her head had been just a few seconds ago. Not screaming at all, then, she thought, hitting a button to light up the screen. _1 missed call_ , it informed her.

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. She could feel her pulse racing. More deep breaths. _Calm down, Dee. Calm down. Just a dream. Just a dream._ Finally, after a couple of minutes of slow, controlled breathing, her heart had slowed down to something approaching normal, and Dee let her breathing go back to automatic again - only to have it stop entirely as her phone started ringing again.

It only took a little fumbling to hit the answer button. “Hello?” she said, annoyed that she sounded like she’d just ran up all the stairs in a fifteen-story building.

“Dee? Are you all right?” Castiel’s concerned voice made her flinch a little, despite herself. She tried to get her breath under control again. She was not winded, dammit. She was fine. Normal. Nothing was amiss. She’d just had a bad dream, that was all. The Castiel in her dream was not the same Castiel as the one currently trying to talk to her on her phone.

“Dee? Are you still there?”

“What?” Dee shook her head, gathering her thoughts. Chided herself for letting her mind run around in panicked circle. “Sorry, I just — ah, nothing. I’m fine. Hi.”

“Hi,” Castiel echoed, sounding mildly amused. However, when she spoke again, all merriment was gone from her voice. “Dee — I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the other day. There was…” she hesitated, started over again. “Something came up. I’m sorry.”

It took Dee a moment to figure out what she was talking about. Oh, right. Their appointment at LaFitte’s. Which Castiel never showed up for. “Oh. That’s—” Dee was interrupted by an angry voice on the other end. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she heard a hand covering up the microphone, Castiel’s muffled answer. More angry voice. Castiel, again, this time angry herself. Dee didn’t know what to make of that. She had only seen Castiel angry once, at the Christmas party, after she’d broken that creepy guy’s nose.

There was a loud sound as the hand was removed from the microphone. “Sorry, Dee. I have to go. I — I’ll be in touch.”

Dee took in a breath to say something, but Castiel had already hung up. “Okay,” she said unnecessarily to the quiet phone. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later, then.” She sat for a moment, then she threw the phone at the wall opposite, narrowly missing the TV. 

* * * * *

Food always helps with confusion. Well, Dee was still confused, and lost, and angry with Castiel because while she had apologised nothing had been explained. And, mostly, she was angry with herself, because this was surely her own fault. She wasn’t sure how, but from experience, most things that went wrong around her was her own fault, so she thought this was a fairly logical conclusion to come to. No jumping needed.

But food helps you think clearer, betters your mood, gets you settled when you wake up from a nightmare just before noon, after approximately 16 hours of sleep, because of a phone call you’re not entirely sure you understood half of.

Food also led her to the kitchen, where a calendar hanging on her fridge cheerfully reminded her which day it was.

December 31st. Shit. Dinner at Ellen’s. Tonight. Merriment and inquiries about how things were going — have you found anyone yet, Dee? Gonna get married like Sammy? — and food and drink and then fireworks in the end, which always come with questions about when she’ll bring someone to kiss at midnight.

 _I’m so not in the mood for this._ There was nothing to do about it, though. Ellen would see through any bullshit excuses Dee could come up with, and anyway she’d feel kinda bad if she cancelled out of nowhere without any real reason. Well, Christmas had been stressful and her best friend had pretty much disappeared on her, so Dee figured she had plenty of reasons to be unsociable, but Ellen was the closest she had to family here. Also, it was just going to be Ellen and Jo, so it wouldn’t be too bad. Probably.

After glaring at her calendar for entirely too long, Dee finally opened the fridge and started taking out ingredients for pancakes. If her life was being shit, then the least she could do was make sure her breakfast was _awesome_.

Even if it was past lunch time.

* * * * *

New Year’s Eve dinner, with fireworks watching and everything, wasn’t as bad as first anticipated. Dee had to admit she’d kind of enjoyed herself. A little bit, at least. Ellen and Jo had gone pretty light on the grilling this year, sensing her mood when they’d asked about Castiel.

Ellen still thought Dee should’ve brought her.

Dee carefully pretended she hadn’t heard.

In any case, she was back home in her tiny apartment now, happily free to do as she liked to start off the new year.

Hoping it would improve from how the last year had ended, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey, ignoring the voice in the back of her head — which sounded very much like Castiel for some reason — asking her if she shouldn’t get a glass for that, plopped down on the couch, and started drinking.


	15. Chapter 11

Time dragged on, Castiel did not call or text or answer her phone, and the month seemed endless — but at the same time, January seemed to fly by. Dee filled it with work and alcohol, which, really, were more or less the same thing. The only difference was, at work she served alcohol until her shift was over and then she got pissed (making sure to go home before it got too bad, so as to avoid Ellen poking her nose in things that were definitely none of her business), while at home she just went straight for the bottle. The sleep troubles might have returned. Dee wouldn’t know, because if you just had enough alcohol in your system sleep was no problem at all.

Not that she would recommend it to anyone else, but hey, she wasn’t anyone else. If she decided alcohol was the best way to sleep, alcohol was how she would sleep.

However, despite the bottles bunching up in in her cupboards, Dee was painfully aware of the wedding that was coming up.

Soon.

Way too soon.

She had been out and found a dress. A simple, elegant and formal one, but not overly so, which would make her dressed for the occasion, but she wouldn’t have to worry about outshining the bride or standing out in any way. Dee wasn’t very fond of dresses and didn’t have more than one (possibly two? She hadn’t actually touched any of her own dresses since hanging them in her wardrobe when she moved in), so she figured this dress was a good idea. It could be used for a variety of later occasions. Not that she often went to anything that required better dressing than jeans and a shirt, but you never knew.

The plane tickets were ready as well. They were tucked safely in her nightstand drawer, and Dee tried not to think about them. Ever. She did, though. More often than she’d like. It was a long journey — she would know, having been through it before — and as if that wasn’t enough, the trip back to London was just as long, so she’d have that to look forward to during the wedding.

Hooray.

* * * * *

Hungover, well aware that her flight was in just a couple of days, and hungry, Dee got out of bed, not bothering to get dressed beyond the too-large shirt she was wearing in lieu of a pajamas, and stumbled through her apartment to get to the fridge.

Food. Food was important. Also coffee, because whoa that’s some headache. Or maybe more alcohol.

Food first, though.

Fridge halfway open, Dee caught a glimpse of something on the door that made her pause.

The calendar. She hadn’t been keeping an eye on the date or day of the week much lately, only paying enough attention to make sure she got to work when she was supposed to (no work today, because Ellen sent her home the other day and told her to _go home, pack you suitcase, and get ready for your brother’s wedding_ , even though it was still some days left), but in some small corner of her mind there was a voice mumbling something about today possibly being important.

Closing the door, Dee looked closer at the calendar. Counting the days since her last shift. That was the day before yesterday, which made today January 24th.

Ah. It was her birthday, then.

“Oh, who even cares,” she sighed, before opening the fridge again, this time taking out some edibles (leftover take-out pizza from earlier that week) before closing it.

It was true, though. As she put the leftovers in the microwave and waited for them to heat up, Dee thought to herself that she truly didn’t care — except for a small panic she could feel was building up in the back of her mind, because she was now only one year away from being 30, _holy shit_ — although she should probably not start drinking again immediately, in case someone called to congratulate her.

Not that she though a lot of people would. Which was fortunate, because she really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone today, whether on the phone or in person.

 _Speak of the devil_ , she thought as the telltale buzzing of her phone, lying forgotten on the countertop underneath the cupboard filled with her alcohol stash, started up.

Dee sighed, but picked up the phone anyway when she saw it was Sam calling. But that had better be the only phone call she got today. _Unless Cas calls_ , a small voice in the back of her head amended.

 _Yeah, like_ Cas _even knows when your birthday is. Did you tell her? No? Then don’t expect anything_ , another small voice, traitorous and cold, replied. Dee mentally kicked herself and chased away all thoughts of Castiel before answering. “Hello?”

“Dee? It’s Sam,” and just like that, all thoughts of her birthday, Castiel, and even the plane travel looming up ahead of her evaporated from her mind, because her baby brother sounded bad.

Bad like he hadn’t sounded in years and years, not even when Dee moved across the Atlantic Ocean.

Bad like he hadn’t sounded since after Dad died, when the police had taken Adam from them.

“Sammy? You okay?” It was a stupid question, she knew. Because Sam was definitely _not_ okay.

“No,” Sam said, and Dee froze. Sam must have guessed her reaction, because he quickly continued, “I mean, yes, but no. Dee… Dee, it’s Jess.”

Dee found her voice again, but her insides had turned to ice. “What about Jess? Is she okay?” A long pause. “Sammy? Sammy, what happened?”

There was the sound of a few deep breaths on the other end before Sam seemed to collect himself enough to speak. “No… Dee, Jess is —” a sob “— Jess is dead.” Never mind her frozen insides, Dee now felt all the air leaving her lungs, her head going dizzy. She backed up until she hit the fridge, leaning on it for support. No — she had to have misheard Sam, Jess couldn’t be dead, could she? Not now. _Not now. Not ever._ She and Sam were going to live together happily ever after, right? She _had_ to have misheard. “There was… there was a fire… I wasn’t — but she was — and I — Dee, she _died —_ ”

“Sam. _Sam._ Breathe.” _Yeah, breathing is important. I should probably do that too._ Dee breathed in deeply and waited until she heard Sam do the same on the other end before exhaling. Inhale again, exhale. Repeat. She did not feel able to be calm and reasonable, but she had to be. That was _Sammy_ on the other end, her little brother, the most important person throughout her life, who had just lost his girlfriend — the woman he was supposed to marry in less than a week. Sam was a wreck right now. Dee had to be calm, be the big sister, at least for the duration of the phone call. She could react after. Now, she had to make sure Sam was as okay. Or, as okay as he could be, under the circumstances. “Okay, Sammy. Just breathe.” She listened to him until she deemed his breathing controlled enough for him to continue. “Right. Good. Now, could you tell me what happened?”

Another deep breath. “I was — I was out, running some errands for the wedding. I had to make sure the flowers were…” Sam trailed off, sighing. “Anyway. It was late, and Jess was back home, she was about to go to bed when I left, and… I don’t know. They’re not sure what happened, they only just got control of the flames before they drove me off to a hotel. I didn’t know about Jess at first — I thought maybe she’d gotten out, something, because she had to be okay, she just _had to_ , but a few hours later the the police knocked on my door, told me the fire was out, and they’d found her.” His breath hitched at the last word, and he paused to get control of his breath again. “They said she’d died peacefully, that she’d died from smoke inhalation long before the flames reached her, that she probably hadn’t even woken up.” A short pause. “I don’t know if that is comforting or not.”

“Oh, Sammy.” Dee was at a loss for what to say. What do you say to someone who just got their life turned completely upside down, and in the worst of ways? Not that Sam was a stranger to sudden, life-altering events, they’d had a few of those in their childhood, none good, but this time was different. This time Sam was living a good life, with a wonderful woman; he had a house, a plan for his career, and was about to get married. This time it went from great to awful, instead of from bad to worse, which, somehow, was even worse. “I’m so sorry. I’m — I’m not sure what to say, nothing I say can fix this, but…” She hesitated for a moment. “Have you, uhm, have you called Bobby yet?”

“No, I… The policemen just left, I didn’t — I had to talk to you, and —”

“Sammy, it’s okay,” Dee interrupted. “I was just wondering. I can… If you want to, I can call him for you? I mean, if you’d rather not go through all this again?”

“Really? You would do that?” Sam sounded genuinely surprised, maybe even touched.

“Of course.” She’d do anything for Sam. Dee hadn’t spoken to Bobby in years, and she was not keen on breaking that streak, but if Sam needed her to, she would call him.

“Oh. No, it’s okay. I can do it. I need to do it. But thank you, Dee.” Sam sighed heavily. “I should probably do it now. I need to talk to Jess’s parents as well. The police said they were going contact them, but I need to talk to them as well.”

“Yeah, you probably should. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Yes. Thank you, Dee. I, uhm. Thank you. I’ll call you later.” Sam hung up before Dee could say anything else.

“Right. Bye,” she said out loud to her empty apartment. She stood for a while, staring at the wall opposite her, before shaking it off. Her hangover, forgotten in the shock, came back full force, and she made herself a cup of coffee, staring at the coffee machine the whole time, before sitting down on the couch.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, Dee remembered the pizza she’d put in the microwave. It had gone cold, of course. She reheated it while pouring her coffee, untouched, in the sink.

The microwave dinged while she was still standing over the sink with the coffee mug in her hand. She put it down, fetched the pizza, and threw it straight into the garbage. Food did not sound tempting right now, although she probably should eat something.

In the end , she wound up drinking a glass of water before sitting down on the couch again.

Poor Sammy. Poor Jess. Poor Sammy. And poor Dee.

She felt awful for even thinking it, but Dee had finally managed to almost psych herself up for the long flight, the crowded wedding, the people she’d have to see again — and now everything had gone wrong. She felt really bad for Sam, but at least he had other people around him.

Dee was alone.

Which, really, only meant that she had to do a better job of pulling herself together. She didn’t want to. She wanted to lay down on the couch and go to sleep. She’d wake up and it would all have been a terrible dream. Dad, Adam, the fight with Bobby, the lonely move to London, the wedding, Jess. All of it.

But that wasn’t how the world worked, so Dee got up, found an old apple in the fridge that looked okay, and forced herself to eat it before going back to the couch. She really should go get dressed. Or something. But all her energy had gone into consuming that damned apple, and she just couldn’t be bothered. It wasn’t like she was going to interact with anyone today. Maybe Sam’d call again, but he wouldn’t see her anyway so what the hell was the point.

She sat on the sofa for a long time.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Dee jolted out of her stupor. Who the hell was knocking on her door, _now_? True, it was her birthday, but no one would actually _come over_ to congratulate her, even if anyone cared enough to remember it at all.

No, she must have imagined it. Yup. She sank down on the sofa again, ready to go into the very nearly meditative, worry-free state she’d been in all day, ever since the phone call.

Another knock, more insistently this time, but still polite and careful, as if the knocker didn’t want to disturb anyone.

 _Disturbed me alright anyway_ , Dee thought. She got up, stretched, remembered that she was still in her would-be pajamas of a t-shirt, but decided it was probably a salesman or Jehovah’s Witness or something, so she could just chase them away without really opening the door anyway.

More knocking.

“Yeah, yeah, coming, calm the fuck down,” Dee muttered under her breath while making her way to the door.

She opened it, expecting to see some sharply dressed salesman or missionary.

What she found was one rumpled, tired-looking Castiel.

Dee stared in shock.

Castiel stared back, looking nervous.

The silence stretched, from seconds to minutes.

Finally, Dee shook herself out of it.

“Cas?”

Castiel cleared her throat. “Hello, Dee.”

Dee felt herself break at the words, and before Castiel could say anything else Dee was over her in a soul-crushing hug that loosened as she started sobbing.

Castiel stiffened, clearly uncomfortable and at a loss for what to do. “Dee? Dee, are you okay?”

Dee couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even bring herself to shake her head. She only buried her face more into Castiel’s neck. The fabric of that damned trench coat quickly got soaked from her tears.

“Dee, what’s wrong?” Castiel tried again, but when it became obvious that Dee was unable or unwilling to answer, the resistance seemed to melt out of her body and she hugged Dee back, awkwardly patting her back.

Eventually Dee’s crying abated, and she straightened, pushing away from Castiel and drying her tears, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, Cas, I —”

“It’s fine, Dee. Let’s go into the apartment, okay? Sit down for a bit?”

Dee nodded, letting herself be led to the couch. She practically fell down on it in an attempt to sit, propping her elbows on her knees, hands to her forehead. It felt as if her head wouldn’t be able to hold itself up without support.

Castiel sat down beside her, carefully, a few awkward inches separating them. “Dee?”

Dee managed a small grunt to acknowledge Castiel had her attention, although she was a bit distracted by her own naked knees. She was still in her not-really-covering-much nightshirt. Huh.

“What’s wrong, Dee?” When Dee didn’t say anything, she tried again, a hint of desperation curling around the edge of her voice. “Please, tell me. Please.”

“I —” Dee tried, but her voice broke. She cleared her throat, but what came out of her mouth was not what she had intended to say. “Where were you, Cas? I needed you. Where were you?” Her voice sounded weak, tired. Small. A silent tear dripped down on her thigh, making a tiny, soundless splash.

Castiel hesitated, withdrawing, increasing the space between them ever-so-slightly. “My brother came. Here. To London, I mean,” she said quietly. “He took me to the States. I didn’t want to go, but he gave me no say in the matter.” Castiel sighed defeatedly. “And he lost my phone at the airport. I suspect it wasn’t accident.”

Dee watched another tear water her thigh.

There was another stretched silence.

“Anyway,” Castiel started, “I — Well. That’s not important. I know that’s not why you’re upset, Dee, though I’m sorry if my disappearance caused you grief. I’m sorry I went away. I wish I hadn’t. But that’s not why you’re crying.” A deep breath, the rustling of clothes as she shifted, turning a little more towards Dee. “Please, Dee. Please tell me what’s wrong. I need — I want to help you. Please.”

“You can’t.” Dee sighed, collecting herself. She wanted to deny the crying, but the evidence clearly told a different story, so she settled for drying her tears on the shoulder of her shirt. She looked up at Castiel, who opened her mouth, about to say something. Dee cut her off before she could start. “Jess is dead.”

The words, whatever they had been, died on Castiel’s tongue. This was, apparently, not what she had expected. “I’m — Dee, I’m sorry.” She lifted her arm towards Dee, as if to place it on her shoulder, but it stopped halfway there, hesitating for a second before withdrawing. Like she wasn’t sure she had permission to touch Dee. Maybe she didn’t. Dee was still angry with her, feeling resentment over being abandoned, though it had been put on the back burner for the moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Dee sniffed.

“What happened?”

“Fire.”

“Oh.” Castiel sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. “Is Sam okay?”

“Not really.” Dee realised she was being difficult on purpose, and relented, “He’s not hurt, he wasn’t at home, but he’s not taking it well.”

“That’s understandable, of course. I’m sorry, Dee,” Castiel said again.

“Yeah.” Dee put her legs up on the couch, curling in on herself. This was probably not nearly a decent position considering how she was dressed, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Anyway, this was _Cas_. Cas didn’t mind. Hard as it was to believe sometimes — especially when she’d disappeared — Dee knew Castiel only wanted her to be okay. Which she clearly wasn’t right now, so a little indecency would go unnoticed.

Another silence. Then,

“What about the wedding? I mean,” Castiel appeared a bit flustered, “I mean obviously, it’s not happening, but are you still going? To the States?”

“I don’t — I have to. There’s the funeral, and Sam needs me.” Dee very nearly started crying again, but she shook her head, burying her face in her knees, and ignored the tears that were gathering in her eyes again. She’d had quite enough of crying for today.

“Of course.” Castiel’s voice did a one-eighty and turned practical, almost business-like, as she said, “Have you eaten anything today?”

Dee, caught off-guard, could only shake her head.

“Well, then.” Castiel got up, and for a moment Dee was afraid she was about to leave, but she only walked over to the kitchen and started rummaging in the fridge.

Her wits — at least some of them — finally returned, and Dee said, “I had an apple. A while ago. Not long before you got here.”

“Right. That’s good.” Castiel’s head popped out from behind the fridge door, a small, comforting smile on her lips. “It’s not nearly enough, though. I’ll make you an omelette, okay?”

“Okay,” Dee replied, and couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept over her own face in response, if only for a moment. “Okay,” she said again, under her breath, when Castiel returned to the hunt for edibles. “Okay.”

* * * * *

As soon as they were done eating, Castiel did the dishes, while Dee snuck off to her room to put on some pants. When she came back, Castiel turned towards her, still scrubbing away at a plate.

“Have you changed the plane tickets?”

Dee shook her head.

“Right. I can help you with it, if you wish. Just let me finish this first.”

Dee nodded gratefully, and soon Castiel was handing her the tickets, fresh from the tiny printer Dee had stowed away in a corner of her living room. It was almost as old as her ancient laptop, but it worked, so it was fine.

“There you go, plane leaves tomorrow at noon,” Castiel smiled at her. “Don’t worry about the money. You can pay me back later. Are you okay for now, though?” She got a small nod in reply. “Right. I’m sorry, but I sort of have to go, as I haven’t been been home yet after getting back, and it was a quite rushed departure because of my brother, so I’m sure there’s a lot that needs cleaning up.” She paused for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, Cas. I’ll be fine,” Dee managed. “Thanks for helping me with, you know —” she waved the tickets a little, “this stuff. Wait. Cas?” Dee looked closer at the papers in her hand again. “Cas, these tickets are for two people?”

“Yes. Uhm.” Castiel seemed to consider her words a little before continuing. “I don’t want you to go alone, Dee. Not now. There is an extra set of tickets, they’re not bound to a name so you can bring anyone. You can’t go alone like this, and I know you don’t like flying normally. These situations don’t help. I was,” a brief hesitation, “I thought maybe, if you wanted, I could go with you. Though as I said, they’re not bound to anyone,” she added hurriedly.

“Oh,” Dee said, feeling a bit speechless. “Oh. You, you’d do that? Fly all the way to the US? Because of me?”

“Of course,” Castiel said, matter-of-factly, like it was no big deal at all.

“Oh,” Dee said again. For a moment she could only stare at Castiel, and then she surged forward and hugged her. “Thank you,” Dee whispered hoarsely. “Thank you for coming with me.”

Castiel patted her lightly on the back a couple of times before withdrawing. “It’s no problem, Dee. I’m sorry, I really should go. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, please call me, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Dee muttered, still a bit overwhelmed. She waved slightly as Castiel turned in the doorway and smiled warmingly at her before going.

“I missed you,” Dee said quietly after the door closed. “I missed you, Cas. Please don’t leave me again.”


	16. Interlude IV

“Adam. Man, where the hell are you?” Dee whispered loudly into the motel room telephone. She was scared. So, so scared. More scared than she’d ever been in her life.

John had found them.

She didn’t know how, but he had.

He hadn’t found they’re room yet, however. They still had a little time. But he’d found their motel, and it wouldn’t be long until he discovered their room. And Adam wasn’t here.

“Arranging a few things. Don’t worry about it, Dee.” Adam’s voice was calm, sounding tinny in the shitty motel phone. There was some chatter in the background, though nothing that gave a hint about his location or what he was doing.

It didn’t matter. Dee didn’t care one bit about that right now. “No, it’s not that. Adam, he’s _here_.”

The change in Adam’s voice and breathing was immediate. “What? At the motel?” There was no calm left, only concern and a hint of panic.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dee hissed into the phone, trying to be quiet. She didn’t want to scare Sam, who was asleep in one of the two beds in their dark room, and she didn’t want to give John any help in finding them. “What the fuck do I do?”

“Stay there, if you can. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” There was a rustling sound, something being swept up quickly and stuffed into a backpack. “If he finds you, stall him. Get Sam out if possible, and yourself. But if you can distract him until I get there, that would be easier.” A pause, a chair’s legs scraping across floor. “Easier, and less dangerous.” Click.

Shit. He’d hung up. Dee went over to the window to see if she could see John, see where he was, whether he’d gotten any closer. As she did, she mentally went over all the possible escape routes she’d plotted out when they got here yesterday. There was a few, none were amazing, but some could work.

She couldn’t see John anywhere, so she assumed he’d gone to the front desk.

Dee went over to where Sam was sleeping. “Sammy?” she whispered. “Sammy? Wake up.”

“Hmm?” Sam rubbed his eyes. “Dee? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Dee lied. “We have to go out for a bit, though. Come on, get up, put on some clothes. Don’t turn on the lights.”

Sam considered her for a moment. “Is it Dad?”

Taken aback, Dee blinked twice before answering. “No,” she said firmly, and Sam nodded, but from the all too grown-up looking expression on his face she knew she hadn’t fooled him. Sam knew who was out there, and he knew they had to hurry and be careful.

As soon as Sam had put on his shoes and a jacket, Dee handed him her emergency backpack, the one she always had at the ready no matter where she went, and told him to go to the door. “Don’t open it until I say it’s okay.”

Sam nodded solemnly, and stood silently by the door, left hand just above the handle, right hand holding the backpack slung over his shoulder.

Dee looked out the window, watching for signs of activity. Fortunately their room was at the end of the row, it was just a few metres to the corner of the building. As soon as he got there and out of sight, Sam could run on and hide in the forest behind the motel.

There was a light somewhere in the area of the reception, as a door opened and a shadowy figure moved out.

“Sam,” Dee whispered. “When I give the word, you open the door as little as you can, and run for the corner, okay? Get behind it, then move into the forest. Don’t make any sound if you can help it, and move low. Hide in the shadows.”

Sam turned away from the door, looking at her with concern shining from his whole face. “What about you?”

“I’ll come after as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay.” Sam sounded so sure, confident. Dee wished she could feel that way.

The shadowy figure started moving down rows of doors at the opposite corner of the motel.

“Now, Sammy! Go! Hide, and don’t come out for anyone unless you’re positive it’s me or Adam.”

Sam snuck quietly out the door and disappeared around the corner just as the figure looked through the windows of the second room on his way towards them.

Dee sat silently in her own window, looking for signs that John had spotted Sam, and hoping Adam would come back soon.

* * * * *

The figure, which was now clearly recognisable as her father, was just two windows away from where Dee was sat now. She was positive Sam had gotten away, so no matter what happened now, Dee didn’t care. Dad couldn’t get to Sam. That was all that mattered.

Still, she felt a growing sense of dread as John drew closer. He’d moved systematically through the whole motel, looking in through every window, sometimes moving on, sometimes picking the lock of the door beside the window and going inside before abandoning the room and going to the next one.

Dee moved away from the window and went into the unlit bathroom. It wouldn’t be long before he got to their room. She’d locked the door soon after Sam had gone, and that would slow him, but John would get there eventually. The door would only be a small inconvenience, and then he’d be here and he’d look in the bathroom and he’d find her.

Only a few minutes passed before she heard the small, metallic clicking noises of a lock being picked. It only took a few moments before the slight creak of the door told her John had gotten through.

Floorboards creaked as he looked through the room, probably checking underneath the beds. A bang as the wardrobe was opened.

Dee sat on the toilet seat and wished desperately that the key to the bathroom door hadn’t been missing, that Adam would get back, that the police would mysteriously show up and take her father away. That she’d wake up and this would only be a nightmare, and Adam would greet her good morning and tell them where they’d be going today.

Careful footsteps approached the bathroom door. Dee forced herself to sit calmly, breathe normally.

The door opened, a tall figure outlined in the weak light coming from the street lights outside.

A click as the bathroom lights were turned on. Dee flinched at the sudden light.

John stood before her, a mixture of shock, relief and anger dancing over his features.

“Deanna?” he said, small and quiet, nearly vulnerable. He took a step closer. “Where have you—”

The door of the motel room banged open. John turned around, features going from human and emotional to warped with rage in a heartbeat.

“Get away from her!” Adam’s voice was loud and clear through the open bathroom door, and Dee could hear the fright in his voice, even though he had hidden it well underneath anger and protectiveness.

“You!” John bellowed, stepping out of the bathroom and slamming the door closed. “You stole my children!” His voice was slightly muffled by the closed door, but still clear and way louder than Dee was comfortable with.

“You have no right to call _any_ of us _your children_!” Adam spat back.

For a second Dee considered going out there, but quickly decided against it. She was a tall but malnourished fourteen-year-old girl and the other two were grown men, and this _would_ turn ugly, and quickly. She’d only get in the way.

So Dee sat down in the corner furthest away from the door, drew up her feet and hugged her knees tightly, and waited.


	17. Chapter 12

Castiel came to her apartment a little after ten in the morning, reminded her of the few things she thought Dee might have forgotten to pack (she had), and then they left together for the airport.

Dee felt her anxiety building the whole trip there. It got a little bit better after they were through airport security well in time for their flight, because they were on schedule and it felt like there was no way back now, but she was still shaking and still a wreck.

Castiel sent her concerned looks every now and then, made sure they both got a little to eat, and then led Dee to their gate. Boarding was starting in ten minutes.

“Are you okay, Dee?” Castiel’s frown was deeper than usual, though her eyes were soft.

“Yes,” Dee lied, even though she new it was pretty obvious she wasn’t.

“Is there anything else you need before we go aboard? Coffee? A book? Anything?”

“Nope, I’m completely fine,” Dee said, in her anxiousness reverting to her default way of dealing with anything troubling: sarcasm. “In a few minutes I will be trapped in a giant death box with hundreds of others, and we’ll fly across a tiny little pond of an ocean to the funeral of my baby brother’s fiancée, where I’ll undoubtedly have to face a whole bunch of people I’d hoped I’d never see again. No, I’m not fine. I’m fanfuckingtastic.”

Castiel put her hand lightly on Dee’s shoulder.

Dee sighed tiredly and closed her eyes. “Sorry. I’m a just a teensy bit stressed.”

“I know,” Castiel said. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Dee opened her eyes again, looking straight into Castiel’s brilliantly blue ones. “You came with me on this trip, even though you didn’t have to. I really appreciate than, you know. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Castiel’s lips curled up in the tiniest smile before she stood up and rummaged through her bag for a moment. She handed Dee something just as they announced the plane was boarding, and smiled quickly at Dee again before going towards the desk to join the line of people waiting to board.

Dee looked down at the item in her hands. It was a book, and old, familiar one. Her well-read copy of _The Hobbit_ , the one she always kept on her nightstand. She hadn’t actually read it in years, but having it there, always close by, was comforting. Apparently Castiel had snatched it while Dee was busy packing the last few things just before they left.

She smiled to herself, gathered her things and walked over to join Castiel in the queue. Maybe this flight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

* * * * *

The flight was awful, and long, and awful, and had lots of turbulence, and seemed to never end, but it did end, and both Dee and Castiel emerged safely on the other side, only slightly worse for wear.

It had been a tiring flight, even if there had been no crashes or familiar flight attendants on fire like there’s been in her dream. Dee was glad it was over, and tried not to think about the return flight in a few days. She also hoped Castiel’s hand was okay. After some time with breathing bordering on hyperventilation and lots of nervous babbling about all the things that might go wrong, Castiel had finally tired of it all, and she’d taken Dee’s hand in her own, telling her with with firm conviction that everything was going to be okay, and proceeded to hold her hand calmly very nearly the whole trip. It had helped. A lot. Every time Dee showed signs of building herself up to a panic attack again, Castiel’s thumb had started stroking the back of her hand. She kept stroking her hand until Dee calmed down again, even when Dee was sure she was holding Castiel’s hand so hard bones were in danger of breaking.

At one point towards the end of the flight Castiel had taken out Dee’s copy of _The Hobbit_ from Dee’s bag and started reading to her, quietly so as not to disturb the other passengers, and Dee had actually fallen asleep a little way into the second chapter. She hadn’t slept for long, but the half-hour of rest had done wonders, and she’d only almost-crushed Castiel’s hand once after that.

They hurried through the airport, picking up Dee’s suitcase quickly. Castiel had only brought a carry-on bag. Almost the moment they got out into the general airport area, Dee was attacked by a ginormous being who tackled her in a hug, curtaining her face with his hair.

“Dee!” Sam nearly shouted, overjoyed despite the circumstances.

“I can’t breathe, Sammy!” Dee gasped.

“Oh, sorry.” Sam lightened his grip, but let the hug go on for a couple more seconds before letting go, looking her up and down with a concerned frown. “How was the flight?” Dee had never told him about her fear of flying, but he probably knew anyway, that bastard.

“Awful, but I’ll be fine.” Dee smiled and looked over to Castiel, who had withdrawn a bit, clearly uncomfortable being in the middle of a family reunion that didn’t really involve her. Castiel still shot her a reassuring smile when she saw Dee looking. Dee turned back to Sam. “How are you doing?” she said, turning solemn.

Sam’s face shadowed a bit, but his good mood over seeing his sister again was still evident in his being. “Good, considering. But it helps that you’re here.”

Dee smiled awkwardly but genuinely, and pulled Sam in for another, shorter, hug. “I’m so sorry, Sammy.”

Sam nodded, sniffed and cleared his throat, and turned expectantly towards Castiel.

“Right,” Dee said. “Cas, this is Sam, my not-so-baby brother. Sammy, this is Cas.”

Sam shook hands with Castiel, something calculating and questioning in his eyes, but smile nonetheless broad. “Nice to meet you, Cas.”

“Likewise,” Castiel said, her smile nowhere near as broad, and a lot more nervous, but still present. “I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Sam said. “Come on, the car’s not far away.” He took Dee’s suitcase, ignored her protests, and turned to Castiel as he led the way. “Dee has told me a lot about you.”

“She has?” Castiel said, surprised, and looked over to Dee, who found herself blushing slightly. “I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” she said after a beat.

“Hah, yeah. I’m nowhere near as tall as she says I am,” Sam laughed. “She said you know a lot of languages. I think she mentioned Ancient Greek?”

“I do know Ancient Greek, yes.”

“Okay, so a couple of week ago I was reading this old mythology book, and there was an illustration with Ancient Greek text in it, and I was wondering if you could translate…”

Dee tuned them out, glad they seemed to get along but with no interest whatsoever in their subject of conversation. Truth be told, her nervousness on the flight hadn’t just been because she firmly believed mankind was meant to stay on the ground. Part of it had been worries about introducing Sam and Castiel. She realised now she needn’t have bothered; both were massive language- and mythology geeks, but still, it was nice to see they got along.

The flight was over, Sam and Castiel were on their way to becoming fast friends, and Dee was back in the States. Now all she had to worry about was the funeral, and meeting people she thought she’d left behind for good.


	18. Chapter 13

Dee and Castiel were staying at Bobby’s house. It was awkward, to say the least. Dee and the old man tried their utmost to avoid each other, and poor Castiel was understandably confused as to how to handle this. She mostly defaulted to hanging with Sam, as far as Dee could tell.

She tried to busy herself with funeral preparations, offering to help before Sam or anyone else even got to the part where they said what, exactly, they needed help with. The most awkward task had definitely been picking up Mr. and Mrs. Moore at the airport and driving them to the house. Just Dee and the grieving parents, trapped together for an hour and half in a small metal cage. Fortunately Dee had the road to focus on, or she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to survive the uncomfortable silence.

Of course, she couldn’t avoid Bobby forever. The night before the funeral itself Dee found herself alone in the living room, when none other than the owner of the house himself walked in. The Moores had gone with Sam to the church to check that everything was in order, and had somehow convinced Castiel to tag along with them.

It was just the two of them, in the whole house. Which, judging from Bobby’s expression, dawned on them both at the same time. They knew they had to have this conversation. It didn’t mean either of them was eager to be the one to start it.

Eventually, Bobby broke the silence with a gruff, “Beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bobby gestured at her, and Dee tagged along into the kitchen. “So,” he said, as they sat down with a bottle of beer each, “how are things in London?”

“Good, I guess.” Dee picked at the label of her bottle. “Quiet, for the most part. Nothing big happening.”

“Mhm,” Bobby grunted, sounding sceptical for some reason. “This Castiel girl seems nice. Bit odd, but nice.”

“She is.” Dee sighed, sick of skirting around the real issue. “Bobby, I’m sorry it turned out this way. I never meant for it to go this far.”

Bobby shook his head. “Me too, kid. Any chance of you moving back stateside?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” A silence came over them, a bit less charged than previously. “So, you gonna visit Adam while you’re here?”

“No. I meant to, with the wedding and all that, but things changed. Obviously.”

“Too bad. He misses you greatly, you know.”

Dee startled. “Did _you_ visit him?” She tried to tamper down the shock in her voice, but she wasn’t quite successful. “When?”

Bobby looked oddly at her. “About once a month, for the past year and a half. Didn’t Sam say?”

“No… We don’t talk much about, you know…” The words died out as Dee waved her hand feebly, trying to get her meaning across with gesticulations only.

“Me? Adam? Anything going on here?”

“Yeah, that. Pretty much.”

“Thought so,” Bobby said gruffly before finishing his beer, then getting them each a fresh bottle from the fridge.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Mad? About the Adam thing? No, Dee. I’m not mad about that.” He took a sip of his beer, slamming the bottle down slightly harder than strictly necessary. “Running off and cutting all contact, though? That, I’m still a bit pissed over, yeah.”

“Oh.” Dee took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I know I overreacted.”

“Overreacted? You’re damn right, you did!” Bobby took a deep breath himself, seeming to deflate a bit. He was a lot calmer when he continued. “But there’s no denying, I was a bit more harsh than any grown man has a right to be towards someone less than half their age. I know you loved him, kid.”

“Yeah.”

“I really am sorry I couldn’t do anything to help with the situation.”

“It’s okay, Bobby. I know there was nothing you could do. I forgave you for that a long time ago, if I’m being completely honest. I was just too stubborn to left it go. You know what?” Dee looked up at the older man, feeling a waft of hope stirring in her chest. “If you don’t mind, I’d like for us to try and move past it.”

“Forgive and forget, they say. Well, that’s not gonna happen,” Bobby said, and Dee felt the glimmer of hope die out at the words before he continued, “I can’t forget it. And I think we still both have more to say about it. But for now, moving past it sounds good. I’d like that.”

Dee perked up again. “You would?”

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, it might be tough going. Old habits die hard, and all that bullcrap. And if you’re not coming back, well, we’re not gonna see much of each other anyway, but it would lighten an old man’s heart if you called, sometimes.”

“Deal,” Dee smiled, happy they’d cleared the air a bit. They still had stuff to work through, but at least they weren’t fighting anymore.

* * * * *

The funeral went about as well as funerals could go. After her talk with Bobby, Dee felt much heartier about it all, and had an easier time dealing with the other relatives she’d alienated herself from. Most of them weren’t actual blood relatives, but they were family, and they’d stood with Bobby, back in the day. Dee suspected she’d have a harder time forgiving them than the old man, but only time would tell.

After the funeral, she made sure to spend as much time as possible with Sammy, even though they mostly just sat watching tv together, with Castiel reading in the corner. Dee had a feeling it was quiet her brother needed the most at the moment. If he needed to talk later, they could do that over the internet, like they usually did.

It had been a very long few days, stressful in so many ways, but very soon the day of Dee and Castiel’s departure was there. Sam and Bobby dropped them off at the airport, with a quick, tired goodbye.

The trip home was long and quiet. Castiel slept most of the way, while Dee held a death grip on her arm rests the whole time, fretting over the last few days. Especially because of her conversation with Bobby, and worries about how this weekend had _really_ been for Castiel.


	19. Chapter 14

It was late at night by the time they got back to Dee’s apartment. Dee was exhausted, and Castiel was clearly close to sleepwalking, despite sleeping nearly the whole way there. They had only said a handful of words to each other since boarding the plane back in the States. This was probably due to tiredness and a long four days, Dee thought, but the silence still felt a bit awkward to her, in a way she’d never experienced with Castiel before.

If she had to be honest with herself, that worried her a bit.

Castiel helped her put away her suitcase, and made sure Dee found herself some food, telling her she needed something to eat, especially since she’d been sick so many times on the flight.

Castiel sat down with her at the table, paying close attention until Dee had finished her food.

They sat in silence for a while longer, until Dee couldn’t stand it any more.

“So, what happened?”

“Happened?” Castiel said, confused.

“With your brother. When he came here.” They hadn’t spoken about it since the day Jess died, when Castiel showed up at Dee’s door out of the blue, and Dee hadn’t gotten any real answers then. She’d been too occupied with her own and Sam’s problems. Now, however, she was curious, and also, she realised, still a little angry with Castiel for just abandoning her without telling her anything.

“Oh,” Castiel said, and sat silent, contemplating her words before continuing. “Well. Luci showed up out of nowhere. No calls or emails, nothing. He just knocked on my door, barged in without even a hello when I opened, and told me I was coming with him back to the States.” She shook her head sadly. “I tried to protest, but, well. He didn’t give me a choice. My brother can be quite… let’s say _persuasive_ , when he wants to.” Castiel got up and made herself a glass of water.

Dee waited patiently for her to sit back down and continue, knowing Castiel would go on when she’d gathered her thoughts again.

“I meant to tell you, especially since we had an appointment that day, but Luci had taken my phone and thrown it away. Well, he said he’d lost it, but I’m pretty sure any losing was done entirely on purpose.” Castiel sipped her water. “He did give me permission to call you once, after we’d gotten to our family home in Los Angeles. I wanted to explain then, but Lucifer interrupted me before I could say much at all. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well. Family can be shitty sometimes. I know that, believe me.” Dee rubbed her eyes tiredly. “What did he want anyway?”

Castiel scoffed. “He wanted me to _come home_. He told me I should stop with my little rebellion and get back to working for him, like I did before. He also told me I should stop with my _teenage experimentation_ —” Dee had no idea Castiel was capable of the level of contempt she put into those two words— “and settle down, find a good husband, continue the family line. There was even a fucking _date_.” Castiel shook her head again. “Poor Samandriel. We used to be friends, before I moved. He does work for my brother. It turns out, Luci had given him no choice in the matter either. Samandriel would’ve lost his job if he hadn’t gone on that date, and I have no doubt there would’ve been further consequences.”

“Wow, Cas.” Dee looked apologetically at her friend for a second before looking away again. “And here I was, worried I’d done something — that it was my fault you left. I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, you’ve done nothing that’d make me want to leave,” Castiel said hurriedly. “And even if you had, I would have said something. I wouldn’t just disappear.”

“No, I know. I’m sorry I thought you’d done anything of the sort. I guess I’m not always the most rational thinker in the world.” Dee smiled self-deprecatingly. “Anyway. What happened then? How did you make him change his mind?”

Castiel’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t. When I made it clear I was not going to work for him, both because I strongly disapprove of his ethics but also because my life is here now and my “teenage experimentation” is not and has never been a phase I can just get over and put behind me, he locked me up.”

“He did _what_?” Dee felt herself becoming more angry by the second.

“He locked me up,” Castiel repeated, too lost in the memory to notice Dee’s outrage. “He fed me and didn’t treat me badly or anything, but the fact remains, I was his prisoner. He even got Michael, our oldest brother, to come to try and talk me back to my senses, as Luci put it. The two of them aren’t on speaking terms, but apparently they both agree I should stop this studying nonsense and stay in the US.”

Castiel finished her water and got herself another glass before continuing. “Eventually, my estranged brother Gabriel somehow heard about the situation. He arranged some emergency at Luci’s main office — I don’t know what it was or how he did it, but he did — came to the house, drove me to an airport and flew me to a different state in some private jet he’d somehow gotten his hands on. Then he gave me tickets home from there, first class and everything.” She sighed. “He wouldn’t tell me anything about himself, not a word of where he’d been and how he had a private jet with crew at his disposal, but he helped me get away, and I’m glad for that.”

“Jesus, Cas.” Dee wasn’t sure what to say. She knew Castiel had had disagreements with her family, but she wasn’t aware it was this bad.

“I know.”

Dee shook her head. “Your brother is a real douche. I almost wish I could meet him, give him a few choice words.”

“It’s probably best you don’t. He’d destroy your whole family in a matter of days.” Dee wanted to laugh, but stopped herself when she realised Castiel was completely serious.

“Anyway,” Castiel went on, “I should probably leave you to sleep. I think you need it.”

Dee nodded, although she didn’t want Castiel to leave. Not now, not ever. Especially now, after hearing Castiel’s side of the story, and also the very trying few days of her own family troubles.

Castiel had put on her coat found her bag, and was about to open the door when Dee tumbled out, “Please don’t leave me.”

Castiel stopped, turned around. “Pardon?”

Dee hesitated, but she was pretty sure Castiel had heard her the first time, so she threw caution to the wind and said the words she’d wanted to say all night. “Please, stay with me. I don’t think I want to be alone tonight,” she added, in an attempt to sound less pathetic. She probably failed miserably.

“Oh. Okay,” Castiel said, hung up her coat again and put down her bag.

“Will you sit with me? Please?” Dee gestured to the seat beside her on the couch. “I just need to sit with you, and have everything be okay for a moment.”

“Everything will be okay,” Castiel assured her, but she sat down close besides Dee.

After a moment, Dee tentatively leaned her head on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel stiffened, unsure and maybe a little uncomfortable, but then she put her arms around Dee and held her until Dee fell asleep.

Her last thought before sleep took her was of how everything just might be okay, with Castiel by her side.

Her best friend, who’d travel half across the world and risk being found again by her own shitty family, all of it for Dee.

* * * * *

There was drool on her chin. And pain in her neck. Crikey, where did she fall asleep last night? Also, crikey? _That was awfully British, I’ve clearly lived here too long_ , Dee thought to herself as she straightened.

Something on her right side moved. Dee froze. There was someone with her? _Leaning_ on her? What happened last night? She cracked open an eye, just a little, and turned her head minutely.

Right. Castiel. Dee let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding relieved.

Wait. What _did_ happen last night? They came back from the airport, Cas told Dee about some fucked shit her brother had done, Dee had been needy, and there was… cuddling? And sleeping, together?

Dee was not quite sure how to process this. She carefully extracted herself from beside Castiel, trying not to wake her up. The other woman’s head just lolled to the side, but she slept on.

Coffee. Coffee, then deal with stuff. Nothing too bad happened last night, though. Except Dee had been pathetically clingy. Or honest. Whatever. And Castiel had been incredibly patient, especially with the touching. Pretty much the whole flight (both ways, actually), and then she’d actually _held_ Dee, for an unknown amount of time, presumably until Castiel herself fell asleep as well.

Hoo boy. This was striding into territory Dee did not want to examine too closely.

Dee was about to pour herself a second cup of coffee when the jug was snatched away rudely by a zombie-like figure radiating morning-grumpiness. There was some unintelligible mumbling that could possibly be an apology while the zombie poured a cup for herself, but Dee doubted it.

“Morning, Cas,” Dee grinned, momentarily ignoring any possible awkwardness after the night. “Sleep well?”

She got more unintelligible grumbling and a scowl in reply, but Dee just chuckled and took the jug from Castiel again, hurriedly pouring that second cup of coffee before Castiel could drink it all, which definitely seemed to be her intention.

Dee left Castiel to it, and found her phone, mostly to check the time. 10:17. Not too bad. In fact, it was a reasonably early morning by Dee’s standards. She drained her cup and went to the bathroom to splash some water in her face, and between that and the coffee she was finally properly awake and clear-headed enough to face any consequences coming her way today.

When she got back, Castiel had finished off all of the coffee, and leaning casually against the kitchen counter, staring thoughtfully at nothing, still cradling her cup. Dee’s arrival seemed to draw her back into the real world again, and she mustered up a sort of awkward half-smile in greeting.

“Sorry. I’ve been told I can be quite rude in the morning, pre-coffee.”

“Yeah, I’d go so far as to call you inhuman,” Dee joked.

Castiel nodded thoughtfully, as if considering this seriously. “Possibly. Anyway, I should get home.”

Oh. Dee felt something cold and heavy in her stomach at the words, but she refused to acknowledge it. “Yeah, of course.”

“Yes. See you later.” And with that, Castiel got her coat and her bag and was out the door before Dee knew what was happening.

Dee stared at the door for a couple of minutes, wondering what that was about. Yeah, sure, Castiel had been away from home for a while, but that was definitely an _abrupt_ departure. Was Castiel uncomfortable about last night? Or something that happened on the trip? Or was she just tired or had bills waiting for her at her own place? Speaking of, Dee still didn’t know where Castiel lived, which she felt was a bit odd. An imbalance of sort in their relationship, she thought.

At the appearance of the r-word Dee managed to drag herself out of it. She gathered up the coffee mugs and put them in the sink, found some cleaning supplies, and went to work on her much-neglected apartment.

Nothing like a good cleaning spree to clear up your thoughts, she decided.

* * * * *

About a week went by before Dee heard from Castiel again, apart from a short “Yes.” in reply to a text Dee sent her, asking if she was okay. Even though Dee kind of thought _she_ was the one who needed checking up on, after the wedding-turned funeral and seeing Bobby again and all that. Then she remembered all the shit about Castiel’s brother, and immediately felt bad.

Dee went back to work again. Ellen had offered to let her have a few more days off, but Dee declined, saying she needed the money (not untrue) and (more importantly) that it was better to stay occupied.

She did spare a thought or two — okay, a lot more thoughts than that, but whatever — for Castiel every day, wondering if she was okay, and also where they stood. Were they okay? Did Castiel feel Dee had gotten too close? Did she even think of Dee as a friend, as anything more than someone she could discuss books with?

And just like that, her thoughts were spiralling again. Normally this would be when Dee would consider rummaging through her liquor cabinet, but being confronted with the past had reminded her how that had gone for her father. Alcohol was not a good solution, however much she wished it could be.

Probably Dee should talk to Castiel, actually _talk_ about their friendship and _feelings_ and the funeral trip and all that, but she’d really, truly rather not.

As a compromise of sorts — _or a coward’s weak-ass way of semi-ignoring the actual issue_ , a small voice in the back of her mind supplied — she rationalised in her head, again: Castiel went all the way to the States with her, because Dee was having trouble dealing on her own. Clearly their friendship was more to Castiel than a book club of sorts. That’s not the kind of thing you do for acquaintances, however close they are. Especially not when you risk your fucked up family getting ahold of you again.

It was a Thursday, a couple hours past noon, and Dee had the whole day off after five straight days of work, a couple of them double shifts. She decided she could put her mind off things by watching a little daytime television and later she could go over to LaFitte’s. Purely to catch up with Benny, of course. She hadn’t seen him in days. Hopes of apple pie had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Dee was watching reruns of some cheesy old show and had just managed to swap out her worries about Castiel with thoughts of how adorable — and annoyingly handsome — the actor of this character called Eric was (what was he acting in these days? And was he, by any chance, single?), when a knock on the door rudely interrupted her very important train of thought.

She grumbled all the way to the door, but did open it — only to find the very person she’d been trying to put out of her mind on the other side.

Castiel looked tired and a little harried, and her dark hair was even more of a mess than usual. She was also wearing glasses, which Dee had never seen her do before. She was holding a large box.

“Hello,” was Castiel’s subdued greeting. No attempt at a smile. She shifted her hold on the box. It looked heavy.

“Hi, Cas,” Dee held the door a bit wider, but Castiel made no move to come in. “How you doing?”

“Good, good,” Castiel replied distractedly. “Good. Uhm, I have something I’d like to ask you.”

Okay? Dee tried to mask her worry behind a friendly smile. She was pretty sure she succeeded, though Castiel probably wouldn’t have taken notice anyway, her eyes were flickering all over the place, never meeting Dee’s eyes for more than a short moment. Something was up, and Dee had a feeling she would not like it. “Well, shoot.”

Castiel’s eyes finally came to a rest on Dee’s. “Right,” she began, speaking slowly. “As you know, I am currently studying, and — and I don’t think I’ve told you this — I am living on an allowance of sorts from my family.” She paused, waiting for Dee to nod before continuing. “I am very grateful for this; that they at least support me economically, even if they don’t respect me and my choices. Although, I suppose, an argument could be made that the money is already mine, as it is taken from the inheritance from my father.”

Dee scrunches up her face, trying to remember. “He left, right? Disappeared?”

“Yes, and he left the money behind, and eventually he was legally declared dead. We, the children, inherited his money, and Michael, as the oldest, was made responsible for it. He’s been sending me money monthly even after I left the US. I suspect that it was at least partly to spite Luci.” Castiel took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Anyway. After my… involuntary family visit recently, it seems Luci finally convinced Michael to stop.”

Dee had a suspicion of where this was going. She’d been right, she did _not_ like this. Not one bit. However, Castiel was clearly not quite done yet, so she kept her mouth shut and let the other woman continue.

“I got an email while we were away. From Michael. He says that after the recent events and my running off again he thinks it would be better if stopped all contact with my family.” Another steadying breath. “Including the allowances, effective immediately. Which means the money I should’ve gotten to pay rent a few days ago… Well, it’s not coming. And my landlord’s quite strict.” Castiel swallowed. “He threw me out, without notice.”

“What?”

“Yes. No second chances, he said.” She straightened up, gripping the box tighter. “So, I wanted to ask you. I don’t have a lot of people to turn to, so, uhm. Would it be possible for me to leave a few boxes here? Temporarily, of course. It’s my books, I don’t have room for them at the moment.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dee said.

“Oh, thank you!” Castiel’s tired face lit up. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem, Cas. What are friends for, right? Here, let me take that.” Whoa, the box was even heavier than it looked. Dee almost dropped it when Castiel awkwardly handed it over, both trying their utmost to keep their hands from touching, but she hoisted it up and changed her grip on the box. It wasn’t _that_ heavy. Just heavier than expected. “Right. I’ll find somewhere to put this, okay?”

“Yes. I’ll go downstairs for the other boxes.”

Wait, _other_ boxes? “Cas?” Dee said slowly, a realisation dawning on her. “How many boxes are there?”

“Two more,” Castiel shrugged.

“Oh. Okay,” Dee breathed out, relieved. “Just two more.”

“Yes. As you know I am a frequent patron at the library. I only own a small number of books myself.” And with that, she was out the door and disappearing down the hallway.

Dee immediately dropped the act, very nearly putting down the box but deciding that would only make it harder to pick up again. _Okay, so it might be a_ little _heavy_ , she thought to herself as she made her way to the bedroom. She had a little unoccupied space in a corner there. _How the hell did Cas manage to drag THREE of these all the way here?_

Eventually, after a lot of swallowed swearwords on Dee’s part, cursing Castiel’s seemingly effortless carrying, all three boxes where stacked on top of each other in Dee’s room, and Castiel was already about to leave again.

“Cas?”

“Yes.” Castiel stopped halfway through Dee’s kitchen on her way to the door.

Dee leaned on a counter. “Where are you staying? I mean, you have somewhere to go, right?”

Castiel suddenly seemed to find her shoes exceptionally interesting. “Yes. I have somewhere to go.”

A suspicious squint crept over Dee’s face as she crossed her arms. “You don’t, do you,” she said. It wasn’t really a question, though if there had been any doubt in Dee’s mind, Castiel’s lack of reply was answer enough. “Really? What the hell, Cas?” It came out sounding way more angry than Dee intended, but she couldn’t help it. “So, you’re just going to live on the streets or something? Is that your plan?”

Castiel’s head snapped up, her whole body bristling with defiance. “Yes,” she said, icy blue eyes sparkling with challenge. “That is indeed my plan. What of it?”

Right. Anger was never the way to go with Castiel. Dee took a deep breath to calm down. “I’m not letting you do that, Cas.”

“Is that so.” Castiel’s face darkened to a scowl the likes of which Dee hadn’t seen since Christmas, when Castiel told her about that guy she’d punched. “Why?”

Dee tried, she really tried, but it came out angry anyway. “Because you’re my friend!” _Okay, Dee, get a grip on yourself. Calm down._ She sighed, took a step closer. “Come on, Cas. Friends don’t let friends live on the streets if they can do anything about it. You _are_ my friend, right?”

The other woman seemed to deflate a bit. She was still tense, but it was no longer barely-suppressed-fury kind of tense. Castiel looked smaller, insecure. Tired again. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I hope so.”

“Right.” Dee felt calm, like the aftermaths of a storm — or the relieved quietness of a small village the ravaging stormed passed by. “Well, then. You’re not gonna end up on the streets. If you want, you could stay here?” She gestured vaguely around her apartment. “I mean, I don’t have much to offer. This place is tiny, and there’s just the one bed, but I can take the couch. We’d make it work, somehow.”

“Really?” Castiel said, and oh, Dee could hardly fucking believe it — she actually sounded disbelieving! How much clearer could Dee make it without _literally_ spelling it out?

“Of course. You’re always welcome here, Cas.” Dee smiled and put her hand on her friend’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Always. Come on, let’s go get the rest of your stuff. You have some, right?”

Castiel’s eyes sparkled brightly as she nodded. “It’s back in my flat. My landlord said I have to be out by the end of the day.

Oh, Dee could just stand here all day and drown in those eyes. Instead, she released Castiel’s shoulder, patting her on the back with a grin. “Well, then. What are we waiting for?” Castiel smiled back, small but still brighter than the summer sun, and they left together.


	20. Interlude V

Sam hid behind a large bush at the edge of the forest for what felt like an eternity. He felt awful, because he couldn’t even see what was happening; he was on the wrong side of the motel. He wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere he could see and hear, but he was afraid of being discovered.

He was such a coward.

Maybe if he’d told someone earlier, someone at one of the many schools he’d gone to, some random grown-up at one of the many stores he’d been to all over the country, someone at the many motels he’d stayed at. Maybe they’d have taken him seriously, and they could’ve fixed this whole thing long, long ago.

He hadn’t told anyone. He’d told a classmate, a few years ago after Adam had left them for good, but they’d been so young. His friend hadn’t really understood what he’d told her, Sam thought. And even if she had, they’d only been seven years old at the time. What could she have done to help him anyway?

Now, though. He was really worried about what was happening, but he couldn’t think of anything he could do. He was afraid Dad might hurt Dee, and his own presence might only make things worse. Probably Dad wouldn’t go any further than he had before, but maybe he was too angry now, too angry to hold himself in check, and he’d kill Dee. Or Adam, if he got there.

So Sam hid. He hid and he stayed hidden.

After some time he heard police sirens, coming closer and closer, and when the red-blue flashes of light arrived at the motel he decided it was time to come out, see what was going on. He stayed for a couple more minutes, to be on the safe side, before creeping across the small clearing between the forest and the motel, and sneaking along the walls till he could see what was going on in the parking lot, where two police cars stood, doors open and lights still flashing frantically.

Sam wasn’t sure what he’d find. He knew Dee had sent him away because she was worried for his safety. He also knew Dee had hoped he hadn’t figured out what was going on. He knew that she knew he knew she’d lied to him, when she’d said it wasn’t Dad. He knew Dee had probably contacted Adam, either before or after getting Sam out. He knew Adam hated Dad, and that the feeling was mutual, at least since Adam ran away that last time.

He knew Dad hated Adam even more after Adam had come and taken Sam and Dee away about a month ago, shortly after Adam’s 18th birthday.

He knew Dad had probably been looking for them ever since. Adam and Dee had never said as much, but it was clear they’d been worried about it, always moving from place to place, always checking for tails and avoiding cameras, always using aliases and various cover stories for why three kids where driving around alone in the middle of the school year.

Still, it had been the best month Sam had had in years. Adam was back, Dee was more cheerful, and Dad had been nowhere to be seen.

Sam still loved Dad, though. Even after all he knew he’d done, and all the things Sam knew he didn’t know about, all the things he could only guess at. It was weird, and difficult, because how could you love someone who’d hurt the other people you loved so much over the years? But Sam also knew, that underneath it all and despite all he’d done, Dad still loved him, and Dee, and probably even Adam.

Sam was almost around the corner again. He could hear voices, and soon saw a police officer talking to one of the other people staying at the hotel, and the young man who’d been behind the desk of the motel that night.

The door to Sam, Dee and Adam’s room was wide open, and Sam could see movement inside. No one had seen him yet, so he moved closer.

The first thing he saw when he reached the door was Dee, sitting across the room on one of the beds with another policeman. She spotted Sam almost immediately, and her face lit up with relief briefly before falling back into the shadows of worry and fear. She quickly crossed the room and clutched Sam in a tight hug before the officer had the chance to stop her.

“You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Dee whispered into his hair. Sam tried to see what else was going on in the room, but Dee held him tightly, screening him from the room with her body. She held him, whispering the same thing over and over again until a fourth officer, this one a woman, put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

“Is this your brother?” the woman said. Dee reluctantly nodded. “I’d like to talk to him for a moment, if that’s okay,” the police officer said. Dee looked sceptical, but let the officer lead Sam outside again. Before he was turned around, however, Sam caught a glimpse of the room behind Dee.

He didn’t see much, but he did see blood. A lot of it. For one terrible moment he thought Dad had hurt Dee, but he quickly reminded himself Dee had seemed fine just a second earlier. Shaken, but physically okay. Then he saw the bloody figure lying limply on the floor, near the bathroom door, and two men standing on the other side of the room from it.

One of them was Adam, the other a uniform.

Before Sam could take in any more of the scene, the policewoman had taken him outside and led him off to the steps outside one of the other motel rooms, presumably an unoccupied one. She sat down at one end of the steps, gesturing for him to do the same.

Sam reluctantly sat down, at the other end. They sat in silence for a short moment. Sam had a lot of things he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know where to start or how much he should reveal, not until he knew more about the situation.

“What’s your name?” the officer asked. She sounded professional and calm, but not unkind.

Sam considered his answer for a moment, but eventually decided he should probably tell the truth, if carefully. The woman hadn’t addressed him as if she were talking to a small child, which he appreciated. He knew he was a kid and that the police couldn’t talk to him in the same way they would an adult in the same situation, but he was glad she seemed to take him seriously. So he replied, quietly, “Sam.”

“Right. Sam. Your sister wouldn’t tell us much, only asked us if we’d seen her brother, which would be you, yes?” The police officer paused briefly, waiting for Sam’s short nod before continuing. “Can you tell me what happened here tonight?”

Sam looked at her for a moment. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Right,” the officer said again. She opened her mouth to continue, but Sam beat her to it.

“Can _you_ tell me what happened? I will help you, if I can, but only if I know what’s going on in there,” Sam said, quiet but firm.

If the policewoman was at all taken aback by his words or the resoluteness of the ten-year-old beside her, she didn’t show it. She turned very serious, however. “There was a fight. Two men involved, neither have any IDs on them. Your sister is the only witness, and she’s not telling us anything. She seems to be in shock. After we are done talking here, you can go be with her, if you wish.”

Sam nodded. “What happened with the fight? I saw someone lying on the floor.” He was pretty sure the figure on the floor had been his father, but he wasn’t sure what condition he was in.

The police officer hesitated. “Do you know the two men?”

“I think so, but I didn’t get a good look at the person on the floor so I can’t be sure.”

She considered her words before continuing. “I will tell you what we know, but after, can you tell me about the two men, how they know each other, and you and your sister’s relationship to them?” Sam nodded again, and she continued. “Right. I’m afraid I have bad news. One of the men was killed in the fight. The other is, as far as we can tell without examination by medical personnel, only mildly injured, but otherwise physically okay.” She gave Sam a moment to take this in before asking, “Now, can you tell me the names of the men?”

Sam took a deep breath. “The injured man is my brother. Uhm, half-brother. The… The dead man—” Sam faltered, but cleared his throat and continued. “The dead man is my father.”

The woman took out a notepad and wrote down a few words. “Okay. Names?”

“John Winchester. That’s my father. And Adam, uhm, Milligan. Half-brother, on my father’s side.”

“Do you know the background for the fight?”

Sam said nothing. He didn’t know how much he should say, or how the policewoman would take it. The fact that Adam had taken Sam and Dee away from their father without his permission might sound bad, and Sam wasn’t sure how much the police officer would believe of what she could tell her about the past, especially since Sam had never actually _seen_ anything, only heard and guessed.

“Right. What was your sister doing there?”

“I don’t know. She sent me out when she saw Dad coming. I’m not sure when Adam came here, he’d been out.” Sam’s voice was getting quieter, fading as the realisation of what had happened tonight started to hit him, slowly.

The police officer must have realised this, because she said, “Thank you, I think that’s enough for now. We’ll have to talk more to you later, but right now I think you and your sister are in need of a break and some food.”

Sam said nothing as the woman led him over to an ambulance that had arrived just a minute ago, where Dee sat in the back. She stood up when Sam got close.

“Sammy?” she said, unsure, although of what, Sam couldn’t say. He wasn’t sure he particularly cared right now, anyway. He walked the last few steps over and threw his arms around Dee’s waist, burying his face in her stomach.

“What happened, Dee?” Sam whispered. “Are you okay? Is Adam okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Dad and Adam—” Dee hesitated. “What did the police tell you?”

“Dad is dead, Adam is a little hurt, they fought, and you won’t tell the police anything,” Sam said, bluntly.

Dee let out a short, humourless laugh. “Sounds about right. Well, I’m okay, and I haven’t really figured out what to tell the police yet, but I will talk to them. Did you say anything to that policewoman?”

“Just Dad and Adam’s names. I didn’t know how much I should tell them.”

“Okay. We—” Dee interrupted herself when Adam came out of the motel room, handcuffed and flanked by two police officers, the two Sam had briefly seen inside.

As they walked past the two children on their way to one of the police cars, Adam stopped and looked at them, face blank. The officers tried to nudge him on, but he stood still, eyes flickering between Sam and Dee.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes landed briefly on each of them one last time before he looked down and continued towards the police car.

Sam and Dee looked after him until the car drove away and out of sight.

“Is Adam going to be okay?” Sam said.

“No.” Dee sighed. “At least, not right now. But we should tell the police as much as we can. It was self-defence. I didn’t see much, but Dad… No. Adam did it to defend himself, and to protect you and me. It was self-defence,” she repeated, a sense of desperation behind her words. “They will understand that. They have to.”

Sam hoped they would, but Dee didn’t sound convinced, and neither was he.


	21. Chapter 15

Living with Castiel was not easy. Neither of them had shared a living space with someone else for years, and it took some getting used to. However, Dee found that the hardest part was not who forgot to do the dishes, or used up the last of the milk, or didn’t remove hair from the drain after showering, or whose turn it was to take the (awfully small) couch.

No, the hardest part was that Castiel was there, all the time, no matter what Dee was doing.

Of course, they weren’t always home at the same time. Sometimes Castiel was at the university, and Dee had her job. And sometimes one got sick of the other and went to the library (Castiel) or LaFitte’s (Dee) to get some time away from the other.

But when they _were_ home, Dee saw every side of Castiel, from grumpy-in-the-morning to submerged-in-studying to watch-where-you’re-stepping-or-you-might-lose-a-limb levels of low blood sugar to frightfully adorably tired in the evenings. There was asleep Castiel, and dripping-wet-hair-after-showering Castiel, and tired-after-a-whole-day-of-marathon-studying Castiel, and pre-coffee Castiel, and angry-because-Dee-hadn’t-done-the-dishes Castiel (although most of the time it turned out it was Castiel herself who’d left them there the night before in a daze after too much reading).

And, of course, Dee’s favourite: excitedly-talking-about-something Castiel, whether it was something Dee understood or not. The way Castiel’s whole face lit up, her animated hand gestures, the way she looked so happy and overjoyed her she might be in actual danger of lifting off the ground and flying away… Well.

If it had been any other person, it wouldn’t have been a problem. Sure, the grumpiness and the anger and the fighting kinda sucked, but you fixed the problem and then you moved past it. Done. Over. Forgotten. But no, this was Castiel, and Dee couldn’t move on. Castiel was on her mind all the fucking time, and it was getting to her.

Still, she tried. She didn’t hold Castiel’s hand when they watched tv together. She didn’t kiss Castiel goodbye before leaving for work. She didn’t brush away that ever-present stray strand of hair when it was Castiel’s turn to sleep on the couch and Dee walked past her on her way to bed. She didn’t kiss Castiel’s grumpy forehead in the morning while they silently stood together in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

However, it seemed she _did_ talk to Sam about Castiel quite a lot. According to Sam, at least.

“What? No. Yeah, I do mention her sometimes, but then, we live together, right? At the moment, I mean,” Dee hastily added. “It’s only natural that roommates pop up in the conversation occasionally.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, right. _Occasionally_. She’s pretty much all you talk about. It’s all,” he made his voice at least two octaves higher, “ _Castiel applied for a job today_ and _Castiel bought another potted flower today_ and—”

“I do _not_ sound like that,” Dee grumbled, trying to interrupt her little brother and make him stop the terrible imitation of her, but he just kept right on, unfazed.

“ _Castiel brought this amazing book for me from the library_ and _Castiel and me went and got free apple pie from Benny’s_ and, not least,” and here the little shit scrunched up his face and put on the nagging tone of a spoiled five-year-old, “ _Castiel didn’t clean the bathroom yesterday even though it was her turn!_ ” Sam sat back in his chair, satisfied.

Dee rolled her eyes. “You done?”

Sam pretended to think it over, running a hand through his overly long hair. “Yes. I have more, but that should be enough for now.” He took a sip of what was probably herbal tea. For just a second, Dee was thankful they were talking over the internet. That shit smelled disgusting.

“Yeah. Thank you very much. You’ve made your point. Message received, loud and clear.” Dee shook her head. “I don’t agree, but I hear yah.”

“My point? Oh, no, Dee, my dearest of sisters —”

“You only have the one, Sammy,” Dee sighed.

“— I’ve not yet mentioned the _real_ point.” Sam waggled his eyebrows and then put on his Serious Lawyer face. “Do you, dear sister of mine, wish to hear the most damning evidence from my investigation of this case?”

“Absolutely not, but I’m betting you’re going to tell me anyway.” Jeez, Sam and his dramatics.

“Correct. There is no stopping me.”

“I could terminate this call,” Dee threatened.

Sam just ignored that, correctly assuming it was an empty threat. “So, honoured sister, I present to you this one most important of facts: Every single conversation we have had over the last month?” He paused for dramatic effect. “They’ve all happened while your _roommate_ has been out of the house.”

Dee lifted her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Really? That can’t be right. And even if it where, _so?_ ”

“First of all, it’s totally right. Ever since Cas moved in, you have been the one to call, _every single time_ , and you’ve always timed it so that she’s out of the house when you do. I’m right; you know I am. Just think it over.”

Dee did, eyebrows sinking back down again and then lower and lower into a frown as she could not come up with a single example to the contrary.

Sam, however, did not give her time to let the realisation sink in. “Also, once I’ve heard Castiel coming home, and you found some excuse and hurriedly hung up before I could say a word.” Dee opened her mouth to protest, but Sam ignored her. “Second of all, this is classic Dee-is-in-love behaviour.”

“Wh-what? _Love?_ ” Dee spluttered, but the protest was half-hearted at best. She did not like to think about the l-word, but she had to admit — if only to herself — that it had, indeed, popped into her head a few times over the last month.

“Oh, yes. _Love._ ” Sam was radiating smugness, Dee could tell. It was bleeding out through the screen. “I have only seen this secretive behaviour and extreme twice before: when you had that puppy love crush on Aaron in 8th grade, and when you dated Lisa.”

“What? I never told you I was dating Lisa!”

“What can I say? You’re not as secretive as you think.” Sam took another sip of his tea, and his face turned serious. “Anyway. What I’m getting at is, you suck at hiding things from me, and, more importantly, I kinda miss her.”

Dee’s face fell. “Oh.”

“She spent a lot of time with me during the funeral, you know? Everyone else avoided me, but not Cas. She didn’t say much, but, well.” Sam sighed. “It helped.”

“Oh, Sammy. I’m so sorry. I— I didn’t…”

“No, Dee, it’s not your fault, I just… Castiel is an amazing person.” Sam smiled. “I know you think so, too. And, well, I’m not going to nag you about this, but I think she’d be good for you, if you choose to take it further. Hell, she _is_ good for you.” The smile turned a little wistful, and Sam looked down at his cup of tea, probably long cold by now, before shaking it off. “Anyway, it’d be nice to talk to her again some time.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll tell her when she gets home.” Dee returned her brother’s smile. His words warmed her heart, even if she’d probably deny it till her dying day. “Fair warning, though: she might just call you immediately, you know.”

Sam chuckled. “Well, that’s fine. Tell her there’s no rush, I just want to hear how she’s doing.”

“She’d probably be happy to talk to you,” Dee nodded. “Maybe you could say a few encouraging words? Her job hunting’s not going too well.”

“Of course, Dee. Not sure how much I can be of help, but I’ll try. Hang on,” Sam said, as he disappeared off-screen for a moment. When he came back, it was with a deep furrow in his brow. “I gotta go. There’s someone at the door. I think maybe it’s Jess’s mother? She’s been coming over here a few times since… Yeah. She misses her. Talking to me seems to help.”

Dee smiled brightly at her little brother, but she could feel a worried frown of her own trying to overpower it. “Yeah, you go talk to Mrs. Moore, Sammy. I should go cook some dinner anyway, Cas’ll be home any moment.”

Sam’s expression lifted a bit. “You give her my love, yeah?” He winked. Dee scowled back as he hung up on her, cutting her short before she could give a retort back. She shook her head for a bit at the little symbol next to Sam’t skype icon, which indicated he’d gone offline, before she got up and got started on dinner.

* * * * *

It got better. Or, at least, easier. True, Dee still had to stop herself from reaching out for Castiel at inopportune moments — okay, okay, more like _all_ moments — but she was managing.

Then, about six weeks after Castiel had moved in, it got worse.

Dee was dreading going to bed. It was her turn to sleep on the couch again. In the beginning, neither of them had wanted to let the other take the couch, but eventually — after some heated arguments that had, surprisingly, not ruined their friendship — they had come to an agreement: they’d each take their turn sleeping on the couch. Three nights on a lumpy sofa that was long for a two-seater but still too short for either of them, then three nights in Dee’s bed, which always felt like coming to heaven by comparison, even though it was just a second-hand wood-framed standard double with a pretty cheap mattress that Dee had found on sale just after coming to London.

Neither of them ever looked forward to sleeping cramped up on the sofa, but Dee was even less tempted than usual tonight. She’d just gotten home from a pretty rough night at the pub — a work night, mind you. As a female bartender of, she had to admit, some level of attractiveness, she was no stranger to sleazy drunks hitting on her, but tonight’s bachelor party had been the most persistent bunch in her whole career behind the bar. And as if that hadn’t been enough, they’d also been rowdy and tragically cheap with the tip.

She hadn’t been the only one they’d bothered, either. Several of the other patrons — woman _and_ men — had left the pub after being propositioned by them one too many times, and eventually Dee’d had to ask the bouncer throw them out and take a young woman they’d been particularly persistent towards to the staff room until she was sure all members of the bachelor party was long gone. Ellen let Dee get off early to make sure the girl got home safely, but it had still been a very tiresome shift.

Castiel had already gone to bed when Dee came home. The apartment was a quiet haven after the mess with the noisy fuckers from the pub, and Dee sat down at the kitchen table — avoiding the couch for as long as she could — with a beer and some leftovers from last night’s dinner. She’d just finished eating and was tiredly gulping down the last of the beer when she heard the bedroom door open. There was the quiet sound of bare feet crossing the living room, and then Castiel shuffled into the kitchen and joined Dee at the table.

They sat looking down at the table between them for a while before Dee broke the silence. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked looking sympathetically at the other woman. Castiel sometimes had nightmares that kept her up for hours, Dee knew.

Castiel looked up at her, eyes running over Dee’s tired features. “No. Why aren’t you asleep? You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks, Cas,” Dee chuckled.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed discerningly. “Is it the couch?”

“No, just a shit night at work,” Dee sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Well, and the couch, but it’s fine, really.” The other woman just looked at her, something calculating in her eyes. Dee looked back, until after a couple of minutes she couldn’t take it any more. “What?” she said tiredly.

“You should take—”

“ _No_ ,” Dee interrupted. “We’ve been over this, Cas. Three nights each. No exceptions.”

Castiel seemed to think this over. “What if…” She hesitated, looking down at her blue-striped pajamas for a second before meeting Dee’s eyes again. “I mean, I know you don’t sleep well when it’s your turn to take the couch. Actually, you don’t sleep very well _ever_ , as far as I can see, but it’s worse when you don’t get to sleep in the bed. And tonight, you look like you could really do with a comfortable night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not throwing you out of the bedroom just because of one shitty work shift.”

Castiel raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “As far as I can tell, most of your shifts are “shitty” in some way. In any case,” she hurriedly added before Dee could say something about it, “you don’t have to throw me out. There’s room for two in your bed, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Oh.” Dee looked away, picking at the label on her empty beer bottle. “Uhm. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, standing up. “That’s that settled, then.” She shifted on her feet, hand on the back of her chair. “You should get some sleep, Dee.” Then she disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving Dee staring after her.

Castiel could be stubborn as hell, and when she’d come to a decision, it was nearly impossible to change her mind. She’d stick to this, and if Dee didn’t comply, Castiel would come back and drag her to bed with her. And oh, wasn’t _that_ an inappropriate mental image. Dee shook herself out of it and went to the bathroom.

When she was finally ready for bed, having postponed it for as long as she could without arousing suspicion, Castiel looked to be asleep. Dee doubted it, though. The other woman knew her too well, and would almost certainly stay awake long enough to make sure Dee did go to sleep.

So she hesitantly slipped under the duvet on the unoccupied side of the bed, curled up with her back to Castiel, and tried to relax.

Castiel had been right, Dee was exhausted, and sleep dragged her under quickly despite the tension over the new development in sleeping arrangements.

* * * * *

After that first night together, there was no going back. Dee wasn’t sure what she thought of it. On the one hand, she slept a lot better than she’d ever done on the couch — even, perhaps, better than she had when she’d slept in the bed before, alone. On the other, she was increasingly worried about her impulse control slipping, making her do something stupid that would risk the routine she and Castiel had gotten into these last two months.

She was doing fine, though. She was, she really was. Dee was sleeping better than ever, drinking less than she had in a long time, and she actually looked forward to going home after work. When they both had time off she often hung with Castiel at home, watching tv, or talking, or sitting quietly together while reading. Sometimes they went out together as well, usually to the library, or to go grocery shopping, or to have a cup of coffee and chat with Benny at LaFitte’s.

And then, a sunny morning in early April, Dee woke up to Castiel’s alarm beeping aggressively, like she did every morning.

“Cas? Come on, Cas, wake up. Your alarm clock sounds like it’s about to explode,” Dee said, blindly shoving lightly at Castiel in the hopes of waking her up.

The other woman only grunted and snuggled her blanket closer around herself, like she did every morning.

Dee sighed, deciding, as always, that she might as well get up, as Castiel’s alarm would keep blaring for a while yet, and it she’d be way too awake to go back to sleep once Sleeping Beauty finally woke up.

She sat up, rubbing at her eyes, and gleefully poking Castiel until her eyes started to crack open and an annoyed frown slowly chased off her peaceful sleep-face.

“Oh, thank God, _finally!_ ” Dee said, giving Castiel a final, playful shove before leaning back against the wall, stretching. “Thought you’d never wake up.”

Castiel mumbled something agitatedly — probably along the lines of _leave me alone_ or _gief coffee_ , if Dee had to guess — and aimed a sleepy throw in Dee’s direction, missing entirely, as she did every morning.

“Yeah, yeah, come on, sleepyhead. We were gonna go see that exhibition thingie at the museum today, remember? About physiology or whatever?”

“ _Philology_ ,” Castiel mumbled sleepily, finally opening her eyes properly and scowling up at Dee. “It’s called philology, and now that I’m saying that I realise you were just checking to see if I’m awake.”

“Spot on, Sherlock,” Dee chirped. “I’ll go put on some coffee, okay?” She leaned over and kissed Castiel lightly on the lips before getting out of the bed.

Once she was on her feet, something about this exchanged nagged at her brain before a sudden realisation hit her. _Fuck._

“Oh, God,” Dee said, clapping both hand over her mouth and whirling around to look at Castiel with terrified, wide-open eyes. “Oh God, Cas, I’m so sorry!” The other woman, usually still grumpy and bleary-eyed at this point of the morning, was sitting upright and looking back at Dee in shock. “I’m so, so sorry, I don’t know what came over me!” Dee was babbling now, she could feel it. “I just — it just felt—” She managed to stop herself from saying something stupid, just in time. “I dunno,” she finished lamely.

Castiel stared back at her for several moments before regaining some of her composure. Her expression went terrifyingly blank. “… _Natural?_ ” she finished, traces of sarcasm in her voice, and Dee looked away. Not in time after all, then.

“I’ll go get that coffee…” Dee told the foot of the bed, hurrying out of the room before Castiel could say anything else.

The coffee was done, and bacon and eggs were well under way when Castiel finally emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed in a scowl and casual business attire as usual, though her blouse was buttoned up wrong and exposing a bit more skin than what was probably considered decent. Dee quickly looked away from Castiel’s chest area. She didn’t meet Dee’s eyes, just walked stiffly to the kitchen table, sitting down at what had eventually become her chair.

Dee finished cooking breakfast in the awkward silence that followed. Neither of them broke it until each had downed a cup of extra strong coffee (Dee might have been a little… preoccupied while preparing it) and poked their breakfast around their plates for a bit. Dee couldn’t speak for Castiel, of course, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat anything, queasy with nervousness about the conversation looming just around the corner.

“So,” she finally ventured, “uhm.” Another poke, then she grabbed the coffee jug. “More coffee?” She asked, filling first Castiel’s cup and then her own before the other woman could even nod.

More awkward silence as they sipped at their second cups of coffee, both doing their damnedest to avoid looking at the other.

“So,” Dee tried again, deciding this could be put off no longer, now that the coffee was at an end. She cleared her throat, finally looking at Castiel, who was now staring at her again, expression as frightfully blank as it had been earlier, giving away absolutely nothing of the thoughts hiding behind it. “Cas, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

Castiel cocked her head, but said nothing.

Dee waited for a bit, but eventually figured Castiel was not going to put her out of her misery any time soon. She cleared her throat again. “Is there any chance we could just, I dunno, ignore this? Pretend it never happened?”

Castiel tilted her head to the other side, eyes narrowing. “No.”

“No? What do you mean, _no?_ ” Dee could feel any hope of their friendship surviving this falter and die. “Why not?” she said, a desperate edge to her voice. 

Castiel stood up carefully, chair scraping loudly against the floor. She walked slowly around the table and came to a stop in front of Dee, holding out her hand as if silently asking Dee if she might, fair lady, have this last dance?

Dee gave up on trying to guess where this was going. She took Castiel’s hand and let herself be gently dragged to her feet.

Castiel had a curious look in her eyes. “Sam said you might be like this.”

“Sam said _what?_ ” Dee could only assume she looked like a giant question mark about now. What the hell did Sam have to do with anything? What had that little shit done now? She _knew_ letting Cas talk to him on her own had been a bad idea.

All thoughts of her brother flew out of Dee’s head as Castiel carefully leaned closer. Dee felt her guards go up, unsure of what was happening. Castiel was coming closer and closer into her personal space, until suddenly there was no personal space left, and then they were kissing.

It was soft and sweet and slow. Dee felt herself relax completely, on hand rising on its own accord and curling up into Castiel’s hair, the other going behind her, finding the back of the recently vacated chair for support.

The kiss seemed to last forever, and yet, it was over too soon. The soft sound of Castiel’s lips leaving Dee’s sounded like the soft sigh of angels on Christmas Eve.

“I’ve been wanting to do that again for some time.”

“Again?” Dee felt dizzy, uncomprehending. She was glad for her grip on the chair, or she might just have lost her balance completely when realisation hit her. “Oh. _Oh._ The Christmas incident.” Dee put an arm over her face, feeling like she was drowning in embarrassment all over again. “Oh, God. I was hoping you’d forgotten all about that. I am such an idiot.”

Castiel just laughed, tugging at Dee’s arms and taking her hands in her own, pressing their foreheads together. “Sometimes, yes.”

They stood there for a while, simply enjoying the closeness, before Dee decided enough was enough and kissed Castiel’s nose quickly before taking a step back. “Come here,” she said, taking ahold of Castiel’s shirt and starting to unbutton it.

“Dee?” Castiel’s slow, careful tone was laced with apprehension, but she made no move to stop Dee. “What are you doing?”

Dee looked up at her, undoing the last button. “Well,” she said, straightening the blouse and doing up the buttons again, maintaining eye contact the whole time, “we have a museum exhibition to catch, don’t we? You can’t go around showing off your knockers to all the language nerds. You’ll get us thrown out.”

Castiel’s smile was sunnier than Dee had ever seen it before, eyes brimming with affection. She took Dee’s hand, and dragged her happily out the door, grabbing their coats on the way.

Never in her life had Dee enjoyed a date more. And in a freaking museum, at that.

Life was good.


	22. Epilogue

Well over half-way through April, the weather thawed considerably. It was still cold and frigid London weather outside, but it was finally warm enough that Castiel looked strictly at Dee and told her it was time to put away the winter clothes.

“Whatever, there’s no rush.” Dee was busy anyway, making lasagne for dinner later that night. Castiel gave her a capital-L _so-done-with-your-shit_ Look. “You’re gonna do it yourself aren’t you,” Dee sighed. “Right. On-hiatus seasonal clothes go into the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. You can put yours there too, if you want.”

Castiel disappeared with a handful of clothes, and Dee could hear her rustling about. Pretty soon, however, the soft noises stopped abruptly. Dee didn’t really take notice of it, busy layering the lasagne.

“Dee?” Castiel came slowly out of the bedroom, stopping a little away from Dee. She was carrying something. Dee hummed a distracted affirmative, but didn’t turn. “Dee, what’s this?”

“What?” Dee finally looked away from the food. “Oh, _that_. That’s just some old hat I found a couple years back.” She finished arranging the lasagne and put it in the cold oven. Castiel said nothing. “Hmm. Sam was visiting, and some chick ran into me in a park, somewhere. She was in a hurry. Showered me in papers, she did, before running off. I think Sam got a picture of it. It was pretty funny.” Dee smiled at the memory, though she wished Sam would come back some time. “Anyway. She must’ve dropped her hat in the collision. I was gonna look for her, because it looked old and probably had some sentimental value, at least. But I think maybe I forgot.”

Castiel was still staring down at the hat, slowly turning it over and over. “Was it, by any chance, Russell Square? Near the British Museum?”

Dee thought it over. “Could’ve been. It’s been years though, I can’t say for sure. Why?” She jumped back a little as the hat was shoved up under her nose, delicate fingers pointing at something in the lining.

“These initials,” Castiel said, only inches from Dee’s face herself, “C.M. I think… I think this was my grandmother’s. Claire Mallac.”

“What? Your grandmother’s?”

“Yes. I had a hat like this before. It was all I had from my mother.” Castiel lowered the hat, and Dee could finally see what she’d been pointing at. Neatly sowed into the lining were two letters, definitely reading C.M. “I lost it, though, a few years ago. I don’t remember it exactly, but the last time I know I had it I was in Camden, late for an interview with some professor at the museum.”

Dee stared at the other woman. “Are you saying you think I’ve had one of your family heirlooms in my apartment since before I even met you?”

“Yes. At least, I think so.” Castiel looked up from the hat, eyes glistening. Was Castiel about to cry? Surely not. She never cried. Although, under the circumstances…

“Well, it’s one hell of a coincidence it it’s true. There’s one way to find out, though. Come on, I think I have those pics Sam took here somewhere, I know he printed and sent them to me, even if I never looked all that closely at them.” She reached out and pulled Castiel to her side in a one-handed hug. Castiel leaned into her gratefully as they made their way to Dee’s bookshelf.

It took some looking, but they found the pictures eventually, tucked away in an envelope hidden behind Dee’s small collection of books.

Disappointingly, none of the pictures where a hundred percent conclusive, but there was one of those snapshots of the century where Sam had captured the exact moment Dee collided with the stranger. Papers were flying everywhere like confetti. Only the stranger’s back was visible, but the trench coat and messy hair definitely looked familiar. Lying at Dee’s feet, the hat that was now in Castiel’s hands was a blurry lump of brown.

“Well,” Dee said after studying the picture for a while, “that certainly looks a helluvalot like a very close friend of mine.” She kissed the top of Castiel’s head.

Castiel looked from the picture to the hat to the picture and back again, and seemed to come to a decision. She lifted the hat, nearly reverently, and put it on her head. At that moment, Dee realised she could never again deny, not to anyone, that she was in love with Castiel Novak. She leaned in and kissed the other woman, long and hard.

“Come on, P.I. Novak. Let’s go find our way to the library.” Another kiss, this one short, sweet, and filled full of all the love Dee could not yet put into words. “I think Charlie’s back again."

* * * * *

Castiel insisted on leaving the hat at home, saying she didn’t want to lose it so quickly after recovering it. Dee shrugged and let her do as she wished. As long as it got them out the door. They hadn’t seen Charlie in ages, and in any case, Dee hadn’t been to the library for weeks.

Soon enough, they were standing close together in front of the Fantasy section. Castiel’s head rested on Dee’s shoulder, and Dee sighed contentedly as she reached out with her free hand, fingers briefly brushing the back of a book.

“ _American Gods_ ,” she read, not caring that she was about to reveal how sappy she truly was. “Isn’t that the book you told me to read, back when we first met?” As if she didn’t know very well exactly which books she’d been looking at the first time her blue-eyed angel spoke to her. (Eurgh, endearments? Dee was well and truly done for it seemed.)

Castiel was likely well aware of this, but indulged her anyway. “Yes, it is.” Her grip on Dee’s hand tightened briefly, giving a comforting squeeze.

“Hmm.” Dee made a mental note to get it for Castiel’s birthday. It was still a couple of months away, but hey, planning ahead wasn’t a bad idea. She turned her head, only to find Castiel already looking at her. Dee planted a quick kiss on her temple, feeling fondness creeping into her face and not minding it one bit. “If someone had told me back then that I’d be living with that genius in less than a year, I woulda accused them for being sent by Sam to mock me. That woman is way too good for me. ” She leaned in closer; they were almost nose to nose, now. “Even if she is an _unemployed_ genius.”

Dee was about to close the last centimetre and kiss Castiel properly when a gleeful shriek as piercing as a harpy’s made them both startle and swivel around, their noses clashing painfully in the process. Before either of them knew what was happening, something fiery red coming at great speed jumped up and embraced them both.

“Deanna and Castiel! My two favourite and most faithful patrons!”

“I’ve told you not to call me that, Charlie,” Dee grumbled, but she hugged the librarian back, tightly, letting go of Castiel’s hand to push the cloud of red hair out of her eyes.

Charlie eventually let them go, smiling brightly.

“How was your trip to Ireland?” A small smile danced over Castiel’s lips, despite the tackle-hug. They hadn’t seen Charlie in almost a month, as she’d been on holiday to visit her long-distance girlfriend.

“Pretty amazing! It was so good to see Gilda again.” Dee could’ve sworn she saw actual hearts shining in her eyes for a moment. “But enough about me, what is up with you two?” Charlie waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“What do you mean, _up with?_ ” Dee felt her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She was pretty sure she knew what Charlie was getting at, but she still wasn’t quite sure how to act about it all when out in public.

Charlie mirrored Dee’s expression. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the handholding you two doe-eyes were doing earlier. Also, judging from the kissy-faces you were making, my poor, delicate eyes would have needed some scrubbing if I hadn’t interrupted you in time.”

Dee rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You _guess?_ ”

“Yeah.”

Charlie’s eyes turned from suspicious to hopeful. “So… you’re together? I mean, you’re obviously _together_ , but, are you, like, _together_ together?” Even through the ridiculous third-grader language, her glee was unmistakable.

“Yes, that would be an accurate assessment,” Castiel nodded, while Dee could only stare curiously at Charlie, who sounded like there was more at stake here than just the happiness of her friends. There was something missing here.

Thus, she was only _almost_ wholly unprepared when Charlie suddenly jumped op in the air, pumping both fists excitedly. “YESSSSSSS!” she squealed, clapping them both hard on the shoulder. “I KNEW IT!!! Ahem.” She turned around, waving at one of her colleagues, a young Asian guy who was busy replacing books a couple of shelves over. “Kev! Hey, Kev!” The kid stopped what he was doing to scowl at her. “Guess what, Kev! GUESS! You owe me a twenty!” She excitedly skipped over to him.

Castiel and Dee looked at each other, completely dumbfounded.

“Hahah! Thanks, guys!” Charlie came back waving two newly acquired portraits of the Queen, grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat.

“You were _betting_ on us?” Dee couldn’t help but feel somewhat offended.

“Yeah,” Charlie’s grin turned a bit sheepish, “but I won, so it’s all good. Also, I told you so.” Dee scowled, remembering an infuriating but somewhat amusing conversation months and months ago. “Anyway, thanks. I owe you one. And, as it turns out, I might be able to pay you back pretty soon. Not with this,” she added hastily, pocketing the money, “these puppies are gonna turn into some shiny new LARPing accessories. No, I have something better.”

“Really.”

“Yup, _really_ , my dear, idiot peasa— I mean, valued patron. See, I couldn’t help but overhear a certain word before I jumped you two lovebirds.” Another eye-brow waggle. “Cas, mate, a little bird — okay, actually, it was a large, bragging peacock,” a less-than-subtle finger pointed at Dee, “but whatever — told me you know a bit about quite a few languages?”

Castiel nodded seriously.

“And I know you’re studying mythology, which is certainly also useful, but mostly I need the languages right now. My boss, you understand — quite a bit of a douche, fortunately not present today, so we may speak freely, although not too loudly because he has ears everywhere — my boss is pretty pissy these days because he is the only language expert on staff. He hasn’t got time for all that work, apparently, though between you and me, I think he’s just offended it means he has to work on the same levels as our _mere mortals_ , not just all that crappy high-end administrative work he seems so fond of.” Charlie pressed a hand dramatically to her chest. “It wounds me so, that our great overlord does not wish to join us here in the dirt.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut to the chase, Charlie, us other mortals have plans today.”

“Plans?” Charlie raised a single eyebrow at Dee. “Oh, you mean smacking on your _girlfriend_.” Dee blushed, but couldn’t exactly deny it. “Well, while that sounds like very important business, I have a question for your unemployed better half.” She turned to Castiel. “Douche he may be, but the bossman knows my value, and gave me permission to find someone for these inferior language-related tasks. Castiel, my brilliant friend, would you like to join the exclusive club that get to call themselves colleagues of this fine piece of royalty? I assure you, we are all highly praised in our field, Kevin the Nerd Intern notwithstanding.”

“Screw you!” Kevin shouted from across the room, earning himself an annoyed glare from an older librarian who happened to walk past just then.

Castiel, meanwhile, was staring at Charlie. “Are you offering me a job?”

Charlie sighed long-sufferingly. “I take back what I said about better halves just then. You two brickheads deserve nothing better than each other. Yes, I’m offering you a job, you idi—” She was interrupted as Castiel threw herself at her. “Look!” she mouthed at Dee. “She’s hugging me! All on her own!”

Dee smiled fondly at them both, put one hand on Castiel’s lower back, and ruffled Charlie’s hair with the other. “She is. Thanks, kiddo. Looks like we’re the one’s who owe you.”

* * * * *

They got take-away cheeseburgers from Dee’s favourite joint on the way to celebrate — pre-made lasagne completely forgotten — and when they were finally home, Dee took the hat from the kitchen table, propped it on Castiel’s head, and carried her beloved language-savvy librarian angel bridal-style to the sofa, where she kissed her thoroughly until the cheeseburgers were long cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, in all its glory. It feels good to finally have this posted. This is my first longer piece of writing ever, and it's been in the works for such a long time. I have been so frustrated over this beast most of the time, but I've had a lot of fun with it. I've learned so much! And my next ridiculously large project is already taking form...
> 
> Right. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


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